The Lord of the Jewels
by digdigil
Summary: The adventures of Legolas, Gimli et al at the start of the Fourth Age on Middleearth, and the adventures of Frodo and Bilbo in Valinor.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: Leaving Middle-earth

Frodo, Bilbo, Gandalf, Galadriel and Elrond arrive on the shores of Tol Eressea.

Frodo leaned against the wooden rail of the great white ship leading him away from his old life. Tears started to flow only as he looked back toward the Grey Havens. He had not cried up to that point, as he had wanted to remain strong in front of the others aboard ship. His friends, Samwise, Merry and Pippin, were becoming small dots, withdrawing before his eyes upon the dove-grey wharf, and slowly became invisible as a fine grey mist enveloped all that Frodo could finally see of Middle-earth. One by one, each ultimate piece of scenery disappeared as if blinked away, and his friends' faces appeared for the final time, frozen in his memory. Then he saw the majestic, flowing architecture of the Grey Havens beyond the wharf, the grey stone walls etched indelibly in his mind. The definitive thing he saw was the clear, still water of the harbour, pooled outward toward him like a looking glass, mirroring for his eyes the last sight of Middle-earth, and then all was gone.

Gandalf's strong voice fell upon the weary Frodo's ears. "Frodo, you are full of sorrow", the wizard said, "but all sorrow is not bad, and in time you will feel better about having to leave your friends behind. Remember that there is an entire new world that awaits you ahead, and do not forget that Samwise will be joining you in the Undying Lands, in his own time."

Frodo heard all that Gandalf said, but his tears would not stop falling. He felt pain at that moment, pain in many ways, both physical and psychological. It would be a long time before he would be able to think back upon his past life without feeling that pain, so profound it was.

With a sigh, he turned away from the view of the receding land where Middle-earth lay, and his gaze fell upon his uncle Bilbo. The old hobbit was making the trip to the Undying Lands with Frodo and the others and was now dozing on a tiny bench upholstered in soft, grey silk, which looked as puffy as a cloud. Frodo's heart leapt at the sight of Bilbo. "All of my friends have not been left behind, after all", he thought. His loving gaze turned from Bilbo to the Lady Galadriel, who was passing by on the other side of the ship. She turned to smile at Frodo. She looked fragile and ethereal as she floated along the ship's deck, her feet barely touching the ground. Frodo noticed with great interest how, in that moment, Galadriel and Bilbo looked alike, with a remote haziness, as if they were almost not really there. Frodo wondered if he, himself, appeared that way to others. "Are we actually dead or dying?" he thought. "Bilbo and Galadriel look like people you dream about after they have passed away. When you wake up from dreaming about them, you realize with a start that they are gone, yet there is a fleeting moment where you feel you can still reach out and touch them and hear the echo of their voice."

Elrond came to stand beside Frodo. "You are in the company of friends, Frodo", he said. "We are going to a better place". The elf drew back his grey mantle, and smiled. "Let me sing a song to soothe your weary spirit along the way", and brought forth his silver harp. He began to play a soft melody on it, and accompanied his playing with a song, in elvish, which had the effect of helping Frodo to forget his sorrows for the moment. It was a song that Frodo had heard before, in Rivendell, that told of Eärendil the Mariner. Frodo knew that Eärendil was Elrond's father, and the sweet song caused him to smile as he gazed up at the Elf-lord. Frodo began then to forget his own sadness and he thought of Elrond's father as he listened to the wonderful words.

"Eärendil was a mariner

That tarried in Arvernien;

He built a boat of timber felled

In Nimbrethil to journey in;

Her sails he wove of silver fair,

Of silver were her lanterns made,

Her prow was fashioned like a swan,

And light upon her banners laid."

After he had finished, Elrond said: "I go to Valinor in hope of meeting again with my parents, Earendil and Elwing, although I do not hold much hope in my heart that we will be reunited. They are both doomed to fly the skies and light the way for others, and cannot live a normal life, as normal as life can be in the Undying Lands. I understand your mourning for those you have left behind, Frodo, but I mourn also, for those who lie ahead. It sounds odd to say, I know, but that is the truth". He turned and went away to the front of the ship, and Frodo's gaze followed him with a puzzled look in his eyes.

A warm, refreshing breeze was on the air. A gust of wind from the sea suddenly arose and the gently cleansing air uplifted the heavy feeling in Frodo's heart. He felt as if it were trying to sweep away his sadness. The white ship was moving swiftly now, onwards and upwards into the western sky. A grey mist rose up with it, arising out of the sea, and enveloped the ship in its shroud. Frodo found himself drifting slowly away, from all thought, all consciousness, and finally, all of his life. Everyone on board the ship fell into a deep, replenishing sleep.

During the voyage, everyone dreamt profoundly of the past, of the people and places they once knew. Gandalf's dreams reflected upon the fragility of Middle-earth and how close it had come to being altogether destroyed. Now he was able to leave that world behind because it was about to bask in the dawning spring of its new age and was coming to a time when it would no longer need the ancient people of the Eldar to guide it. They had not done such a good job anyway, he thought. Memories of the strong and heroic people left behind, flooded into Gandalf's thoughts. King Elessar, with his benevolence, his healing powers and his love of all the peoples, flora and fauna of Middle-earth, would be the perfect ruler for the beginning of this new age. He would be joined in his endeavours by many friends, all working together for the common purpose of rebuilding their various countries and lands torn apart by wars and battles.

King Eomer of Rohan possessed the strength and fairness to lead his people to prosperity. His sister Eowyn, now married to Prince Faramir, was gentle, kind and intelligent, as was her husband, and together should make wonderful ambassadors to go forward into distant lands and attempt to bring them together with the alliance of Rohan and Gondor.

The hobbits of the Shire, Merry and Pippin, indomitable of spirit, should also make fine goodwill ambassadors. As did all hobbits, they possessed a love of history and geography and a love of people of all kinds, even though it was not in the hobbit nature to wish to venture forward to discover new places or people. Samwise Gamgee, loyal and steadfast, while still living on Middle-earth, would thrive as mayor of Hobbiton for many years to come, and sire a huge, loving family.

Gimli, the dwarf, a great warrior, proved he had the strength of mind to overcome his bigotry and stubbornness in order to befriend people of other races. He had truly grown enough that he could become a fine leader of his own realm. And lastly, Gandalf reflected upon Gimli's friend Legolas, an elf-warrior of skill, grace and beauty, who was so beloved by his friends that they prevented him from leaving Middle-earth when he had heard the call of the sea. He had been left behind for the time being, torn as he was between his elvishness and the humanity that he embraced.

With evil banished finally from Middle-earth, there was no need for the protection any longer of more than one Maiar spirit. In fact, two had been left behind to watch over Middle-earth now. Iarwin Ben-Adar and his wife Goldberry had moved from Eriador to the forests among the far western mountain ranges.

After an unknown length of time had passed, Gandalf awakened from his dreams in time to announce that land was in sight. "Behold! The golden shores of Tol Eressea!" he called out joyously. Frodo and Bilbo awoke too, and joined him at the ship's bow, and looked out upon the welcoming shoreline, which was bathed in a golden light. Then, the white ship descended, and touched down softly upon the outlying waters of Tol Eressea, the Lonely Isle. All of the ship's passengers gathered at the bow and held hands, and looked out with wonder at the unknown future, which lay ahead of them.

Chapter One

Legolas Greenleaf

In the year 1480 by the Shire Reckoning or Year 58 of the Fourth Age, Legolas Greenleaf, previously of Mirkwood Forest, dismounted at his stables in Ithilien, gliding off his horse, Arod, and patting its neck as he did so. "Go now, Arod", he whispered to this very special horse, a gift to him from King Eomer of Rohan, to reward his assistance and valour during the War of the Ring. "Please return to Edoras for now, then come back to me in a fortnight". Arod neighed at him, and with a swish of his white tail, he galloped off.

This horse had been through many battles and adventures with Legolas and the two could not remain parted for long. Arod had come originally from Rohan, and every now and then he would return to the stables of the King in Edoras for a short while. Then he would always return to the home of his real master, who was now the new elven-king of the realm of Ithilorien, a land that he had been awarded by King Elessar of Gondor within the forest of Ithilien.

Legolas and Aragorn had fought long about this. The Elf did not wish to have any title or special privilege of royalty bestowed on him. While he cherished the idea of, and was instrumental in bringing Elves from the war-battered realms of Mirkwood, Rivendell and Lothlorien to establish a new realm in Ithilien, he did not like to be called "King", or "Your Majesty", or any other royal title by anyone. These Elves had worked hard to turn that part of the forest into a beautiful colony such as had existed in Lothlorien and Rivendell of old. King Elessar had given him a glade in which to live within the forest of Ithilien, so that he and his colony of elves could rebuild and restore it to its former splendour. Legolas named the area Ithilorien, in order to pay tribute to the golden realm of Lothlorien, which had all but been destroyed during the War of the Ring by Sauron's forces. It was now a deserted place, with its ruler, the Lady Galadriel, having gone herself to the Undying Lands and her husband, Lord Celeborn, had moved his rule to East Lorien in a part of Mirkwood. King Elessar had awarded the rule of the lands of Ithilien, surrounding Ithilorien, to Prince Faramir, who was now the steward of Gondor.

Legolas had been born in the city of Gondolin in Beleriand, a land that was no more. He and his father, Thranduil, had escaped from Gondolin during its siege, before it fell to the forces of the evil Vala Morgoth. Legolas was gifted with night vision, and had led the exiles from Gondolin to Mirkwood Forest, where his father established a new realm of woodland elves. King Thranduil had long now departed Middle-earth, leaving his son Legolas to rule all the Silvan elves who remained there.

The Silvan elves were a scattered people, considered to be the lowest in stature of all the elves, although they knew among themselves that, sickened by war, they had deliberately separated themselves from the other elven divisions in order to live in peace among the woodlands and forests of the world. Legolas knew that within Ithilien once had been a beautiful forest, but it had suffered much damage during the terrible times that had led up to the War of the Ring. Therefore, he believed that the Silvans he brought there, understanding and loving the trees as they did, would be able to repair and heal much of the vast and terrible destruction done to the forest by Sauron's orcs. Armies of evil soldiers coming up from the south and the east had also trampled through it, cutting down its trees and slaughtering its animals and birds for food or for sport.

Where Lothlorien had been rich with golden mallorn trees and the yellow flowers called elanor, Ithilien was full of birch trees and white flowers. Legolas was committed to keeping Ithilien white in color, in order to honour the White Tree of Gondor. He and his elves planted many silver birch trees and the white flower called niphredil, which ran in great swaths through the forest. Niphredil was an ancient flower, which had first appeared in the forest of Neldoreth in Beleriand, when Luthien Tinuviel lived there.

The river Anduin ran through the middle of the forest of Ithilien, and more and more creatures of the water had settled beside it once again as the orcs and other evil creatures disappeared. Birds such as swans and animals like river otters came to live along its banks once more, after disappearing for many years because of the battles being fought there.

Legolas's elves replaced and rebuilt some of the old Gondorian structures and statues that had been damaged or destroyed during the dark days. There were now new bridges fashioned out of white wrought iron and birch wood, crossing streams whose banks were now lush with reeds and flowers such as the fragrant lotus that gave off its exotic scent, and on whose surfaces floated white water lilies. Swans swam freely in the rippling waters, and many frogs chirped in nearby pools. Legolas lived in a large, open house through which the soft, warm breezes blew off of the water. It was fronted by four white marble pillars, which were etched with streaks of black that made them resemble the birch trees that surrounded the house. Along its sides were white twisted metal fences and arbours of silver, overflowing with white climbing roses and other vines. A wide road led up to the front entrance and was bordered on both sides by white-flowering shrubbery. Everywhere that one looked were beautiful gardens and pathways to stroll along. Many fragrant flowers grew there, such as lilies, nicotiana, sweet alyssum, jasmine and gardenias with their mingled fragrances providing heady aromas for the visitors who were encouraged to walk among them. Not only white flowers grew there, but also a few of yellow and pink, in order to add some color here and there.

There was no door or gate to Legolas's house. It was entirely open in the front and back. Visitors entered through the pillars at the front and came directly into a large foyer of white marble walls and floor. Designs of green trailing ivy were painted on the walls, and every other tile on the floor was painted with the insignia of the house of the Tree, of Gondolin, in green and gold. White curtains separated the foyer from the rest of the house, and also separated each individual room. Legolas believed in openness, personal freedom, and the right of passage for every living being in his realm. He neither needed nor wanted any private space for himself. After living under shadow and oppression for so long, and having to hide from enemies had left him with a desire to live in complete freedom, bound not even by the walls of his home.

He did not need to sleep, being an elf, but as he did not now have the need to stay alert at all times, he found that he usually liked to go to bed at night-time, and if he did not sleep, he would simply lie peacefully and enjoy the sounds of the night. His bed was fashioned out of birch and covered with soft, white, silk sheets. The other inhabitants of the house, who worked with him and had various chores to do around the realm, gave him privacy of their own accord, out of respect for him, but he asked for none. Animals wandered in and out as they pleased, and it was not unusual at any time to see a dog chase a rabbit through the house, from one end to the other.

On a beautiful, breezy morning in late summer, Legolas awoke to find a young maid standing at the foot of his bed. She had come a few years ago from the city of Minas Tirith to live in his household, and she did most of the cooking and tended a small garden just outside the back entrance. She had told Legolas that she had originally escaped from Lothlorien during one of the sieges by Sauron's forces. She was golden-haired and fresh-faced, with pink cheeks unusual in an elf, who almost always had pale complexions.

"Fingalas? What is it?" Legolas was startled, and sat up in bed.

"My Lord", she said softly, "I am sorry to disturb you, but a visitor has arrived and he asked me to wake you". She had been standing at the foot of the bed watching Legolas sleep for a while, before he sensed her presence and was startled awake.

Legolas wound a silken sheet around his body as he stepped out of bed. He picked up a silver flask of water from his nightstand with a graceful sweep of his slender arm, and took a sip. "Do you know this visitor's name, Fingalas?" he asked.

"It is your friend, Gimli", replied Fingalas, blushing a little. "He apologizes for waking you so early but he has only now arrived from the White City".

"Gimli!" Legolas cried, joyful at hearing his name. He had not seen his friend for many months. "Please ask him to make himself comfortable. Would you bring him some food and drink if he wishes, and tell him I will be but a moment, Fingalas?"

Fingalas nodded and passed from view in a billow of blue cloth, and Legolas washed his face and hands with water from a silver basin. Rather than taking the time to get dressed, he wrapped himself in the sheet tightly, and ran to see Gimli right away.

Fingalas had bid the dwarf be seated on a bench in the hallway, and was talking to him as Legolas emerged from his bedroom. "Some refreshment will be brought for you in a moment, Sir", she smiled as she spoke, and "My Lord Legolas should be with you as soon as he is ready."

Gimli looked up to see Legolas approaching in his bedsheet and his amusement made him grow alert as he thought of a comment he could make in jest to the Elf. "Have I come at an awkward moment?" he asked.

"Awkward? No, not at all", Legolas replied. He was beaming with joy at seeing his old companion, and not as a result of Gimli's joke.

Fingalas blushed, and ran toward the kitchen area.

Legolas, his hair tousled, brushed the long strands away from his face as he slid onto the bench beside Gimli. "My friend, it is good to see you", he said.

"And you, Legolas, my lad", grinned Gimli. "I was just speaking to your pretty lady friend", he said, winking.

"Why are you winking at me?" asked Legolas, adjusting his bedsheet.

"That pretty lady seems to fancy you", Gimli cajoled him. "Have you and she been up to something this morning? Have I interrupted you?"

"No, Gimli! You are far off the track! Fingalas has been with us for a long time. She does not have a fancy for me. She takes care of my house and garden, and therefore is around me a great deal of the time."

"Oh, I see. Well, perhaps you should not run around naked. Then she would be less likely to notice you!"

"I do not run around naked!"

"What do you call that?" asked Gimli.

"I am wearing a sheet!" exclaimed Legolas.

"Oh, and that is appropriate clothing for the daytime, is it?" retorted Gimli. "She blushed also, when I spoke to her about you", he said.

"She always looks as if she is blushing", replied Legolas. " It is her coloring".

Fingalas then returned with a tray of refreshments for Gimli, and both elf and dwarf watched her with interest as she walked toward them. Their stares were not lost on her, and she blushed profusely as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and on not dropping the tray.

"Thank you, my lass", said Gimli, as Fingalas set the refreshments down successfully on a table beside the bench, and turned to flee back to the kitchen with the tray.

"Fingalas", Legolas spoke, and she stopped abruptly, trying not to let the jerking motion of her body jolt the tray out of her hands. "Do you think you could do something with my hair, please? It is constantly getting in my face. I confess I came out in such a rush to see Gimli that I did not take the time to tie it back". Fingalas nodded, and went toward Legolas's bedroom.

Gimli looked at Legolas and shook his head. "My friend, you worry me", he said. "You constantly complain to me that the women chase you, and yet you seem to do everything that you can to attract them".

"I have no idea what you mean", replied Legolas, surprised. While many women among elves and humans both were attracted to him, Legolas had lived a long time and had been through many battles, and war had left him emotionally distant. He had withdrawn into a reflective, philosophic Elf whose mind was on other things than love and marriage. He desired neither, and in fact found himself involved in a new conflict; the constant struggle with his newly found sea-longing, an affliction that he fought on a daily basis.

"No, I can see that you don't", said Gimli. "You are ever the elusive elf. It is no matter. I have come today at Aragorn's request, to invite you to Minas Tirith for a few days or so. He says he wants you to hear a new minstrel that is visiting them for a while. It seems that she is one of the wandering elves, and was discovered while traveling through Rohan. The Lady Eowyn speaks very highly of her singing talent. It is, apparently, very special, and Aragorn thought that you would like to hear her and meet her".

"That sounds very interesting, but I cannot go just now, I am afraid", said Legolas. "There is much I must do here yet before I can go away again. Did you not wish to continue our travels in the fall, and go to visit Moria as we had planned?"

Legolas and Gimli had planned for a long time to return to the Misty Mountains in order to explore Moria again. They were to visit each other's choice of places and had already traveled through Fangorn Forest, where Legolas had wished to visit, but they had not continued on through Moria. He had wanted to put off this trip until he was less busy with matters in his own new realm.

Gimli wished to visit Moria before winter set in. He had been living in the Glittering Caves of Helm's Deep in Rohan, to be nearer to the friends he had made during the years of the Fellowship of the Ring, but now he desired to travel once more with his old friend the Elf. "Legolas, I have grown impatient with sitting still", said Gimli. "I would like to start our travels again now, and traveling would take you away from the women for a while".

"There are women also in Minas Tirith, and everywhere", Legolas retorted. He had discovered that since the War had ended, many women seemed to be looking around them for eligible men to marry and start having families with. Many females, both human and elf would approach him constantly. Mothers would bring their daughters to be introduced to him. Handmaidens of Arwen's court would give her notes to pass on to him, knowing that he was a good friend of hers, and that she was always willing to do this favour for them. Secretly she enjoyed teasing her old friend and seeing his mild discomfort.

He did not wish for that much attention at this time, because there were so many things that he wanted to accomplish, things that had not been possible for many years because of the Shadow of Sauron and the ensuing War. He wanted to finish building Ithilorien and establish a colony of elves there. He was also struggling with his innate desire to leave Middle-earth and sail over the sea to the Undying Lands, a desire that had been awakened in him since the end of the War. He struggled daily with this desire to leave, but also with his subconscious longing to stay in Middle-earth, until his human friend Aragorn, King Elessar of Gondor, passed away from old age.

However, Legolas was an immortal elf, and since the elves had been in decline for a long time, most of them having departed Middle-earth, he lacked the desire for marriage and children that humans possessed. There were no more elf children being born. Elves could still fall in love and have normal loving relationships with each other, but they had forsaken their ability to be fruitful and bear children.

Fingalas returned with a silver hairbrush in her hand.

"My Lord, would you like to come to your room now, and I will do your hair?" she enquired.

Legolas watched her approach, and turned to Gimli. "All right, Gimli, let us go to Minas Tirith, if you are able to stay here for a fortnight. I sent Arod back to Edoras a few days ago, and we must wait for him to return before we can leave on a long journey. I would not ride any other horse but him. Please have some breakfast and wait for me while I get dressed in appropriate clothes for the daytime!" He smiled broadly. "I shall not be long".

LOTR (Alan Lee Illustrated Edition):

P. 1066: "Elrond -- a silver harp was in his hand --".

P. 1068: "-- there was a White Ship lying -- Then Frodo kissed Merry and Pippin, and last of all Sam, and went aboard --".

Since JRRT described Legolas as being fair of face, it seemed likely that he would be attractive to women, especially after the War when people could return to normal lives.

These are the first two stanzas of the song that Frodo heard Bilbo singing in Rivendell. From Page 250 of LOTR (Alan Lee Illustrated Edition), The Fellowship of the Ring, "Many Meetings".

Borrowed from the Book of Lost Tales, Part Two, where it states that Legolas led the exiles from Gondolin.

13


	2. Chapter 2

2

The Undying Lands

I took some AU liberties in describing Tol Eressea as it may have appeared to new arrivals.

The Isle of Tol Eressea lay just off the shoreline of the mainland of Valinor itself. The party of five, Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, Bilbo and Frodo, disembarked from the white ship. They were planning to spend some time on the Island to see the sights of the Lonely Isle of legend, which was now a thriving place devoted to, among others, recreational pursuits of art and athletics. They would, after a time, be settling there permanently. Gandalf wanted to take the hobbits to see all of the Undying Lands eventually, which included the lands of Valinor and Eldamar, as well as Tol Eressea itself. It was of particular importance that Frodo's injuries should be examined by Irmo and Este of the Valar.

The party crossed from the ship to a docking area, which afforded a view of emerald-green lawns, sloping away toward stands of golden trees. Frodo thought they were mallorns, such as he remembered in Lothlorien. Galadriel confirmed that they were, indeed, mallorns. " In these Lands, you will see many trees and plants that you have never seen before", she told him.

The smooth green lawns were edged with tall, glittering white rocks of granite, which separated the lawns from the shoreline. The beach was of pure white sand, fine, soft and warm on the feet. Here and there were bridge structures fashioned out of a strange grey wood, dotting the shoreline, with one end of the bridge standing on the shore, and the other footing standing in the water. These structures reminded Bilbo of those of Lake-town, near the Lonely Mountain where he had had his great adventure. He sighed at the memory. One could walk on the bridges and look out over the sea, or walk across the place where they spanned the tall rocks, to the grassy slopes beyond. Frodo looked up to see a tall tower of pure white, sparkling in the golden sunlight.

"That tower is called Avallone. It is the watchtower of the Teleri elves who originally settled here", said Gandalf. Frodo saw that there were some elves, clad in curiously scanty clothing, who were standing on the lawns to greet the party as they disembarked, and who were speaking to Galadriel with what appeared to be great cordiality. He looked around and saw that here and there were several large tents, fashioned out of a white, silky material, that, when they billowed in the light breeze, looked very much like the rippling sails of their great white ship. One of the elves had now approached them and was speaking with Gandalf.

"Welcome again to Tol Eressea, Mithrandir", he said. "Welcome, also to you, Masters Elrond, Bilbo and Frodo. My name is Sandor. Please come into my tent and avail yourselves of some refreshments, and rest as long as you like. My brother Sindor and I are at your service."

Frodo looked around the tent as Sandor led the group inside. He saw an elf who looked exactly like Sandor pouring some wine into silver goblets at a long, elegantly set table at one end of the very large tent. This elf then brought two goblets over to Bilbo and Frodo, and handed them one each. "Welcome, Master Hobbits", he said, beaming. "My name is Sindor. Welcome to the Undying Lands of Tol Eressea. I have been hearing the most fascinating stories about you both, and about your adventures on Middle-earth from the Lady Galadriel. You must tell me all the details!" With that, he led the hobbits to the opposite end of the tent where several comfortable-looking benches and lounging chairs were arranged in a cozy grouping. The hobbits each picked out a comfortable chair and arranged themselves on it to their liking. Sindor continued, "We have all the time in the world!" He chuckled at his own joke. "My brother and I will bring you food and ale, or wine if you prefer, and we will eat, drink and talk together. Please do let us know if you wish for anything else at all, and we will bring it. Later, we will take you on a tour of our small area of Tol Eressea. Now, if you will excuse me, I will bring you some food. Are you both hungry?"

Frodo nodded. "The voyage seems to have given me quite a hunger, such as I have not felt in a long time".

"Then, plenty of food you shall have", said Sindor, and he went in search of something appropriate for the hobbits to eat.

Frodo could not help but stare at the twin elves. They looked identical, with hair so lightly colored that it was almost white, worn long about their shoulders and intricately braided in the elvish style. They both wore scanty, white tunics, clasped at the shoulders with brooches made of icy-looking greenish-blue jewels, and held together around the waist with silvery rope. Frodo suddenly felt very warm and removed his cloak from his shoulders. "Is it always so warm here?" he asked.

"Yes, the weather here is always the same temperature, more or less", answered Sandor. "However, you will find that today there is a light breeze coming off the sea, and occasionally we have a light rain as well, which washes everything down and keeps it clean. Sindor and I like the rain because we do not care too much for cleaning. We would rather play games than scrub and sweep".

Frodo laughed, and looked more closely at the two twin elves, and saw that they looked very young in their features and in their spirit. "Do you work here all of the time?" he asked.

"Yes", said Sindor. "My brother and I are in charge of the welcoming tents, and we greet the guests as they arrive here on the ships. We prepare all the food and drinks ourselves, and make sure that the tents are in good condition. There are also other of our kinsmen who help us, although they have not been needed much as late, since the once steady stream of elves arriving from Middle-earth has now dwindled to only a few every now and again. You will see that all over this island and on the mainland, most of the elves have specific work that they do. We are all free peoples, however, and we work only because we want to, and it is our desire to keep everything running smoothly, and to keep everyone happy. This is possible only if we all work together to achieve it. It is our elvish way, for most of us". Sandor nodded in agreement with his twin brother.

After the hobbits finished their meal, during which time the elven twins regaled them with stories about some of their more amusing friends and their escapades, and begged the hobbits to tell them stories about Middle-earth, the elves suggested that they all go for a walk. "We can walk off our meal as we show you some of the local scenery", said Sandor. Bilbo got up a little reluctantly, as he had dearly hoped that the elves would have brought some pipeweed and pipes for an after-dinner smoke. However, he did not wish to appear ungrateful or greedy, so he said nothing, and got up from his chair.

Frodo noticed then that Gandalf, Elrond and Galadriel were not in the tent with them. "Do you know where our friends have gone?" he asked.

"Do not worry, Master Frodo", replied Sindor. "They felt no need nor wish of food, and this is not the first time that two of them have been here. Mithrandir and Galadriel are familiar with our lands though it has been long since they have dwelt here, and therefore had no need of orientation. They are showing Master Elrond about. We will walk, and they will join us in a little while when we stop to rest."

As they walked, Frodo noticed how everything seemed to be arranged to encourage the pursuit of art and sports. He saw an area where a huge pink shell structure had been built alongside and in front of a stand of tall trees. There were comfortable chairs in front of it, and also placed in front was a platform of wood, upon which sat a trio of elves playing stringed musical instruments, and singing lovely, lilting melodies. The sound of light music wafted over the hobbits as they walked. The grass was soft and lush on their bare feet. In other areas, people were painting or drawing while sitting on the lawns with tablets resting on their knees. There was a pond where some elves were swimming. Frodo was a bit shocked to see that they were completely naked, but it somehow looked very natural. The elves' bodies were all very beautifully shaped, and for the most part, were nearly hairless.

"Great hairy hobbits!" he thought to himself. "Sam would surely have something to say about this!" He glanced toward Bilbo, who was smiling and nodding with wide open eyes, and who had temporarily forgotten about his pipeweed.

They passed a group of elves who were playing a game using long, wooden sticks with small discs of metal attached to the bottoms, to hit small white balls up into the air. Once the balls landed on the grass, the elves used the sticks to push them into small holes in the ground.

"What are these elves doing?" asked Frodo.

"They are playing a game called "Golif", replied Sandor.

"But I know this game!" cried Bilbo. "I thought that it had been invented by hobbits when old Bandobras Took chopped off an orc's head with his sword and it flew into a hole in the ground! It gave the hobbits who saw it the idea for a new game."

Sandor shrugged. "Yes, it is quite possible that the idea for the game was brought here by an elf from Middle-earth who had known of it. It seems that some of the best ideas and inventions are inadvertently claimed by people who did not initiate them. Ah, I see Gandalf sitting nearby. Let us go and join him, and you can have a bit of a rest."

The two hobbits and their companions walked over to Gandalf, who was sitting on a bench, smoking his long pipe. He smiled at them lovingly as they sat on the grass at his feet.

"My dear Bilbo and Frodo", he said. "Have you had enough to eat and drink? How do you like your hosts, Sindor and Sandor?"

"They have been wonderful. Very kind, and amusing", expressed the hobbits.

Bilbo fidgeted slightly. "Er, Gandalf", he said. "May I ask, where did you get the pipeweed?" He licked his lips.

Gandalf laughed uproariously. "My dear Bilbo! You have not lost your ability to make me laugh! I am sorry that you have been kept on tenterhooks. Please, you are welcome to try some of Tol Eressea's finest pipeweed. It is called Santolinto, and is not as rich and rugged as Old Toby, but I promise you that it is very smooth and satisfying."

With that said, Gandalf handed each hobbit a long-stemmed pipe and produced some matches. "Now, let us have a long talk. I wish to make you both aware of some facts about myself, and clear up some mysteries for you. Come and make yourselves comfortable before I start. It is rather a long story."

Sandor and Sindor left to find some cushions, and soon brought back armfuls of them, putting them on the lawn for the hobbits to sit upon. They then took their leave, promising to come back in a short while to take their guests to their sleeping quarters for the night. Once Bilbo and Frodo had settled themselves on the cushions, and were happily lounging and smoking their pipes, then Gandalf began his story.

6


	3. Chapter 3

3

LINDARIL

During the fortnight that Gimli spent at Legolas's home while awaiting the return of Arod from Edoras, he kept busy helping some of the elven builders put the finishing touches on one of the out-buildings near Legolas's house. This building was to be used as a school of sorts, where anyone interested in the pursuit of art, whether it be painting, sculpting, or metalworking, could come to learn the craft from some of the finest elvish artists and artisans of Middle-earth, before they set sail to the Undying Lands and their skill would be lost forever. Gimli was speaking with one of the silversmiths, a tall, thin elf named Hilagaer, about the proper way to affix a very ornate handle to a teapot that the elven smith had just completed making.

"I do not think that you should be cutting holes in the pot", Gimli said. "If you do that, it may leak, and then what good will it be to anyone? I think you should weld the handle to it!"

"I cannot weld this, as you suggest", replied Hilagaer, with some measure of patience, "because the pot is far too delicate for that. Do not worry, Master Dwarf, I have made many of these things, and I do know what I am doing". He turned away from Gimli so that he could concentrate on fitting the very fine handle ends into the slots he had made in the sides of the pot. Once fitted, he would gently hammer the edges flat against the inside of the pot, and then press the silver together at the seams in order to make it waterproof. Gimli turned away in exasperation and walked toward the stables.

"Blast these elves for their stubbornness!" he thought to himself as he went in search of Legolas. "They do not know how to take instruction! I don't know how much more I can stand of their irritating ways! I do hope that that damned horse will return soon and we can leave for Minas Tirith!"

Legolas was in fact, at that moment in his stables, readying Arod for the trip. Since the journey would be faster if Gimli rode his own steed, he also readied a fast little pony named Cemera for him. The horses were packed heavily for the long journey to Moria as well, which Legolas and Gimli were to begin once they left Minas Tirith.

Legolas was dressed in a short green velvet waistcoat, under which he wore a white silk shirt, and he wore tight black breeches with tall black leather boots. His hair had been plaited for him by Fingalas, and hung down behind his back in a long braid. He had caught her glance while she was working on his hair, and it seemed to him that she had looked into his eyes rather searchingly while she worked. He felt strangely unsettled by that look, and thought about it as he strapped the bow and arrows that Lady Galadriel in Lothlorien had given him, to Arod's saddlebags. He felt there was no need for him to carry them on his own back as he surely would not need them.

Gimli entered the stables, and was much pleased to see Legolas making the preparations for their trip. "Oh, bless my beard", he exclaimed. "Thank goodness, and what a sight for sore eyes is Arod! Wait a moment, Legolas, will you, and I shall be right back with my belongings! Are we leaving right away?"

Legolas laughed. " Why are you in such a hurry? I thought we would leave after dinner, and that way we can make our farewells to my household staff. It may be a long time before we see them again."

"Oh, all right, then", said Gimli, feeling rather crestfallen. "I will just go and change my clothes."

After dinner they returned to the stables for the horses. Gimli was wearing a green and yellow tunic shot with gold thread over brown leggings and brown boots. His axe was strapped to Cemera's back. The two friends looked very smart in their traveling clothes as they galloped away northwards toward Minas Tirith, the city of the White Tower.

It was two days' ride to get there, where Aragorn, or King Elessar, and Arwen, his Queen, were most happy to see them and greeted them warmly. Aragorn was starting to show his age more and more, Legolas noticed, each time he saw him of late, because the King was a mortal man. His keen blue eyes were now edged with many fine lines, and his cheeks were more hollowed than they had been during his fighting days. His lips had grown pale and thin. He was thinner in body as well, and Legolas's heart ached to see the changes in his friend. He did not want to think about the inevitable aging that was taking place in Aragorn, whom he loved and revered. Arwen, on the other hand, still maintained her elvish appearance, as well as her otherworldly nature. She was tall, raven-haired, and pale of skin, and had great blue luminous eyes. Because she had wed a mortal man, she would not be able to go to the Undying Lands with her own kind after Aragorn passed away, but would be doomed to wander about alone until, when the time came, she would lie down and her spirit would wander as a passing shadow in the lands of Middle-earth.

"Come, and let us show you to your rooms", said Arwen, after they had spent some time reminiscing over a few goblets of wine. "You may settle yourselves, and then come and join us for dinner".

"Gimli was telling me you have found a new minstrel, a female elven singer, and that she is staying with you here", Legolas remarked to Aragorn, as the two walked arm in arm down one of the great hallways of the palace.

"Yes, her name is Lindaril", said Aragorn. "Wait until you see her, Legolas. She is a wonderful singer, and she is as lovely to look upon as she is to listen to".

"Gimli mentioned that she is one of the wandering elves", said Legolas with much interest.

"Yes, she has told us that she is one of the Dark Elves, and that she has come from the unknown lands beyond the Grey Mountains", Aragorn replied. "She dwelt for a while in your old home of Mirkwood Forest, interestingly enough, then she wandered down along the east bank of the Anduin to the Falls of Rauros, where she crossed over the River and passed into Rohan. She spent a long time in Edoras, and she and Lady Eowyn became very good friends while she was there". They came to Legolas's bedroom, which was very large with many windows, all opening onto a vast balcony laden with many flowering plants, where Legolas could feel at home whenever he came to visit.

"She is a strange one, though, Legolas", continued Aragorn, as they stopped outside the room. His voice was so low that no one could overhear him. "I have an odd feeling about her", he whispered.

Legolas pressed close to Aragorn. "In what way, 'odd'?" he whispered back.

"I find myself wondering what you two are whispering about", Arwen laughed, as she and Gimli came up behind the man and elf. "Your heads are very close together and you seem to have eyes only for each other, as you carry on your secret conversation", she said in amusement. "I will leave you with them here, Gimli, and then would you all please come down to the Great Hall as soon as you have put away your things? I will look in on the girls before I join you". Arwen then left them to see to her daughters, and swept down the hallway, her heavy robes trailing along the polished marble corridor as she walked.

Legolas and Gimli put their possessions in their separate bedrooms, while Aragorn left to prepare for dinner. "Hurry down to the dining hall as soon as you can", he said to Legolas.

After the enjoyable dinner, Legolas and Gimli were quite eager to hear the minstrel sing her songs. Everyone had talked of her at great length during the meal. Aragorn and Legolas did not have another opportunity to talk together alone, as they had been joined at dinner by a few other elf-friends of Arwen's and some official men from Aragorn's government. When pipes had been brought out for those who smoked, and wine goblets and ale tankards had been refilled, Aragorn stood up to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our guest, Lindaril, who will be entertaining us tonight with her songs".

Through the great door at the end of the hall appeared an elf-maiden. She was raven-haired, her hair even darker than that of Arwen. Her skin was porcelain-white, and her face thin, with high cheekbones and gaunt cheeks. Her eyes were huge, and dark blue in color. Her lips were red and full. She wore a crimson and purple dress of velvet, which was worn wrapped tightly around her slim figure, and was of a style very unusual, falling to just above her ankles, whereas most women's dresses fell to the floor where they pooled like drapes. On her feet she wore black sandals with no heels, which emphasized her short stature. For an elf, she was very tiny, standing just over five feet tall, whereas most elves, male and female, usually stood over six feet. Lindaril carried a small stringed instrument rather like a lute, which she began to strum. Then she sang.

Her voice was bewitching, the song haunting and enchanting. She sang a song of the forest and of the sadness dwelling there among its scanty denizens. Her next song was of a lighter sort, with a pretty, lilting melody. It spoke of brightness and color, with the tinkling melody of a brook running through a meadow. As she sang song after song in an ever-changing voice to suit the emotion that each of them wrought, her audience was transfixed. She paused after a while.

"I hope you have enjoyed my songs", she said, her speaking voice as clear as a bell. "I have enjoyed singing them for you. Now, here is something very different. This is an ancient song, handed down through the ages by my ancestors, who passed it on one by one to each other so that it would never be forgotten. It has come to me, and I am the last of my kin. I do not sing it very often, as you will soon understand. I sing it only when compelled to do so, as it speaks of a warning I do not fully understand". Then she began, without accompaniment.

"The terrible one, clothed in a shroud  
Stood dark and tall, his head never bowed  
He stole the jewels of the elf-prince so proud  
Ran away with them hidden in a black cloud.

In the deep, dark pits of hate he bred  
From stolen first-born ere they tread  
The lands of earth where they were led  
To live without strife, hate, or dread.

The dark one took these sweet fair souls  
To suffer in his deep, black holes  
Tormented with fire and burned with coals  
To become monsters cruel, like underground moles.

Cursed by one who lives no more  
Whose people, doomed to endless war  
Whoever shall find the jewels of lore  
Shall doom us all to unknown horror."

Thus ended the song of Lindaril, as her audience sat in astonished silence.

6


	4. Chapter 4

4

Gandalf's Story

From The Silmarillion (Hardcover edition illustrated by Ted Nasmith):

P. 17: "These are the Maiar -- for though it is otherwise in Aman -- in Middle-earth the Maiar have seldom appeared in form visible to Elves and Men".

"My dear friends, Bilbo and Frodo", Gandalf started, "We have known each other a long time, but there is much I wish to explain about who I am exactly, and to clear up some mysteries for you. We have never really talked about this before. You may have many questions of me, which I will try my best to answer in a way that you will understand. For years you have believed that I was a wizard, an old man who possessed some magical powers. Did you ever wonder what a wizard was, in terms of race or species?"

Bilbo replied, "When I think of Saruman, I do wonder at the fact that wizards could actually be evil, because I sensed some similarities between Saruman and Sauron, and wondered if, in fact, they were of the same kind".

"It turns out that you were right, Bilbo, even if you were not aware of the real facts. Sauron is of the same race as Saruman and myself. We are called the Maiar, and there are many of us. The Maiar are of the same race also as the Valar, whom we serve, but of whom there are but a few. We possess many powers, one of which is the ability to change our appearance, or shape-shift, as that power is also called. As Istari wizards, the other wizards and myself took the guise of elderly men with long beards, and we dressed alike in long robes and carried staffs that contained within them some magical elements. As Gandalf the Grey, I had a much different appearance than Gandalf the White, and yet I also shared some similarity. There are many other Maiar as well, thousands of us, in fact, and although we do possess certain powers, we are not as powerful as the Valar themselves".

Frodo and Bilbo both stared at Gandalf in fascination and with a certain degree of horror.

"I cannot believe that you are of the same kind as Sauron!" exclaimed Frodo, "and I will admit that the idea that you can change your appearance frightens me more than a little!"

Bilbo nodded in agreement, and asked, "You were Sauron's equal?"

"I was Sauron's better!" replied Gandalf, "Because Sauron had foolishly put a great part of his power into the One Ring, they were thus bound to each other. When the Ring was destroyed, he was also. The Balrog of Moria, who destroyed me as Gandalf the Grey, was also a Maiar spirit, and was originally a servant of the evil Vala, Morgoth. As far as shape shifting, the Maiar and the Valar can assume any form that they wish; however, once a shape has been assumed and either has been destroyed or we wish to change it, then it can never again be used by that spirit. Also, if we change our shapes too often, our ability to do so weakens over time. This is true for the Valar as well".

Frodo and Bilbo stared at Gandalf with not a little fear in their hearts. "What is your real shape, if I may ask, although I am not sure that I wish to hear the answer?" Bilbo asked tentatively.

"Ah", replied Gandalf. "That is a good question".

Frodo jumped in at this point. "We all thought that you had died in Moria!" he exclaimed. "Are you saying that the Balrog that you did battle with there was your equal, and it can rise from the dead and become something else again?"

"Not exactly, Frodo", said Gandalf. "We both perished on that mountain-peak of Zirak-zigil, but I alone was sent back to complete the task I was chosen to do, and I was given greater powers with which to do it, as Gandalf the White Wizard. We cannot, of our own power, resurrect ourselves. Only Eru, the One, and some of the chosen Valar, can do this".

"Gandalf, would you please promise me something?" Frodo asked soberly. "Please tell me beforehand would you, if you plan to assume the shape of anything very big, or scary, or - "

Gandalf shook his head and laughed. He took a long drag of his pipe, and blew out a huge smoke ring. "I will continue my story, and perhaps that will make you feel better when you understand it. We Maiar are spirits whose real form is somewhat unfathomable by yourselves, who are real people of flesh and blood and bones. Our real shape is somewhat like bright flames of light. Do not be afraid, please. That is what we are in the spirit form, not of flesh and blood people of the earth. Many, many years ago, I was Manwe's servant. Manwe, as you know, is King of the Valar. He lives in a tower upon a mountaintop called Mt. Taniquetil, in the northern range of mountains called the Pelori. From there he can keep watch on the lands below and is aided by his great eagles, which bring him news, and help him when he needs them.

Manwe was, or is, Morgoth's twin brother. Morgoth was once called Melkor, but was re-named Morgoth by an elf named Feanor, a great elven prince of long, long ago. Morgoth means "dark enemy of the world", as indeed he was. Melkor chose evil over good, and was eventually overthrown by the other Valar after causing unfathomable damage to the world, to both Valinor and Middle-earth, when they used to lie side by side. The Valar captured him and threw him into the great Void which lies outside our world, where he dwells still, unseen, doing we know not what. However, as with Sauron in the end, Morgoth had also used up a lot of his powers in shape-shifting too many times, and he is therefore unable to take physical form ever again. However, it is possible that his presence could still return in some way, as yet unknown. The Valar and the Maiar have always been aware that one day, it is possible that Morgoth could return".

Gandalf paused for a while so that the hobbits could digest what he had just told them. Frodo thought that he detected an almost imperceptible shiver or something similar pass through Gandalf's features. At length, Gandalf continued.

"This story is an extremely complicated one, and for now, I am making it as brief and simple as I possibly can, because it is too much to digest at one sitting. With that said, I was chosen by Manwe to patrol Middle-earth, and I was sent here in the guise of an wizard, and was given greater powers than some of the other Maiar. I was also a ring-bearer, although not of the One Ring. I was given Narya the Great, the ring of red fire, by Cirdan, a great Eldar of the elves, and Lord of the Grey Havens. This ring also gave me more power while I was on Middle-earth. However, things in Middle-earth went terribly wrong when Isildur, ancient ruler of Gondor, did not destroy the One Ring after the last battle of the Second Age, after he had cut it from Sauron's hand. When the evil Sauron was not destroyed, then I was sent to Middle-earth. At about that same time, the race of hobbits also first appeared. When you came into possession of the One Ring, Frodo, and then brought it to its end, my task was done. I was sent to oversee the Ring's destruction, and to orchestrate certain events".

"Begging your pardon, Gandalf", said Frodo sadly, "but I did not destroy it, did I? That was down to Gollum in the end. But for his last act, I should have been lost to the Ring's power. Sauron's power", said Frodo, holding up his left hand with the missing forefinger.

"No, Frodo, you carried the Ring to the Crack of Doom", said Gandalf. "There was no one else who could have managed to do that. Please do not feel any guilt whatsoever. That task was appointed to you because you were - are - special, and you were, with much regret, sacrificed, if you will. What you do not know is that all of the events that occurred on Middle-earth during the War of the Ring were planned. After I fell in Moria, Eru, or Iluvatar, the One took me up, and he sent me back as the White Wizard to replace Saruman, who had fallen under the spell of evil. Cirdan gave to me the ring of fire, and I was sent to stop the remaining members of the Fellowship of the Ring from finding Merry and Pippin after they became separated from the others. In diverting those three hunters, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, away from finding Merry and Pippin, and going to Rohan instead, I set in motion a series of events that first, stopped Saruman from destroying Rohan, then caused the Ents to destroy Isengard and with it, Saruman's war machine. By so doing, I made Sauron stronger for a while as he was trying to get the Ring from Pippin, whom he mistakenly thought was in possession of it through seeing him in Saruman's Palantir. Now, do you have any questions of me?" Gandalf stopped to ask.

"It is rather a lot to digest at one sitting. My mind is befuddled. I thought you said that you were a servant of Manwe", said Bilbo.

"At one time I was", replied Gandalf, "but Eru had forbidden the Valar to interfere in any of the doings of Middle-earth. Therefore, he took over the command of me from Manwe for a while, and sent me back in order to vanquish Sauron. However, even I did not know exactly how events would unfold".

"Did you not take a huge chance by allowing Sauron to become stronger for awhile?" asked Frodo. "He almost destroyed the Gondorians".

"We put all our trust in you to get the Ring to Mount Doom, Frodo", said Gandalf. "I sent Sam to help you by putting into his mind the conviction to stay with you always, and help you he did. Then events were left to fall into place as we planned and hoped. Therefore the Ring and Sauron were destroyed". With that, Gandalf stood up, and brushed bits of crumbs and pipeweed off of his robes. He sighed. "I am reminded that I have one last chore to perform before I must go back", he said.

"Go back?" Bilbo and Frodo cried, in unison.

"Yes. Come along. We shall sleep here tonight on the Isle", said Gandalf. "Tomorrow we shall go across to Valinor, and I will take you to the Isle of Este, in Lake Lorellin, where Este dwells. She is one of the Valar, and is the Goddess of Healing of Hurts and Weariness. She will tend to you both, and for you, Frodo, she will heal the mortal wounds that you sustained. They would surely have brought about your death had you remained on Middle-earth. Come, now".

With that, the hobbits rose, and followed Gandalf into the tent where they were to spend the night. They were joined a little later by Galadriel, who had slipped into their tent almost unnoticed. She sat in the entrance, looking out over the sea, toward Middle-earth. Frodo watched her as he slowly began to fall asleep. He noticed how much she had changed since the time he first had laid eyes upon her. She made him feel uneasy back then. At that time, she had been a tall, imposing woman, with luminous, penetrating eyes that looked straight through a person into their soul. Now, she seemed as thin and unsubstantial as a paper doll, sitting in the tent's opening with her golden hair streaming behind her in the slight breeze from the night. She turned suddenly to look back at Frodo. Her eyes still shone with the same light as before, but they now seemed bereft of the power that they once had held. She smiled at Frodo wordlessly. He did not now feel afraid of her. He smiled back and drifted quickly off to sleep.

6


	5. Chapter 5

5

Very Strange Findings

From The Silmarillion: ( Hardcover edition illustrated by Ted Nasmith) P. 42: Of the Coming of the Elves: "Next came the Noldor, a name of wisdom, the people of Finwe. They are the Deep Elves, the friends of Aule, and they are renowned in song, for they fought and laboured long and grievously in the northern lands of old."

In the Great Hall of the White City of Minas Tirith, Lindaril finished singing her strange, unlovely song and stood uncertainly before the other guests. A silence filled the room as the end of the melancholy song still resonated in everyone's ears, and for a moment they could not let it go. No one spoke or moved for several minutes. Lindaril bowed her head. "I am sorry", she said. "I do not know what possessed me to sing that particularly unsettling song, except that I felt compelled to sing it as a warning or premonition, regardless of the consequences". She looked upset with a frown disturbing her lovely features and her eyes were downcast.

"Come, please join us", said Aragorn in a sympathetic tone, as he stood up rather shakily. Lindaril walked into the shadow, where the group was sitting. Some servants had put out the torches behind the group so that they could see Lindaril while she was singing, but she was not able to see them while the light was facing her.

"Lindaril of the North, please let me introduce two new companions who have joined us this evening. They are very old friends of mine. This is Master Gimli of Rohan".

"How do you do, madam", said Gimli, taking her extended hand and bowing deeply.

Aragorn continued. "And this is Legolas of Ithilorien, the forest realm of the elves of Gondor".

Legolas stood up to greet Lindaril, and as she looked up at him, she felt an instant attraction. "Hello", she whispered.

"I am very pleased to meet you", said Legolas. He was struck by her diminutiveness, and how very unusual that smallness was in an elf. She also gave him a very uneasy feeling, and it was not because of the strange song she had sung.

The group sat and drank more wine, and talked until well into the wee hours of the morning. No more reference was made to Lindaril's unsettling song. It had the effect on almost all of those who had heard it to wish for it to be forgotten. Finally, Gimli rose and said that he was tired and would take his leave. Several of the others did as well. Then Aragorn and Arwen got up and bade Legolas, Lindaril and the others good night, and told them to stay as long as they wished in the Hall. Eventually, Legolas and Lindaril found themselves alone in the spacious room.

"Please tell me", Legolas asked her. "Why did you sing that song? No elf has ever sung of Feanor and the jewels in these times, to my knowledge. It is felt that because of the evil times we have recently experienced that it is best to try to forget also about those evil times of the faraway past. There was a curse attached to those jewels".

"I know that", Lindaril replied. "I learned that song from people who were reluctant to pass it on, yet did so and most of the song has survived, although not in its entirety. I do not know the song in its complete form. It is said that it predicts the future and that what is to come is too terrible for folk to hear. It is rumored that it speaks of the end of the world".

"Well", said Legolas, letting out a long breath, "in these happier times, we do not worry about those ancient beliefs any more. That is why I asked why you chose to sing it. Did you not say that it was a warning? What sort of warning was intended?"

"I did indeed say so", she replied. "But I am feeling very tired now, and do not wish to discuss the matter further at the present time. Would you please walk with me down to my room?" She stood and held out her hand to Legolas. He took her tiny hand in his large one and walked with her out of the great hall.

Lindaril led Legolas down a corridor to her bedroom and invited him to go in with her. He was loath to enter at first, but she appeased him by offering him a seat next to the window, by which he could leave anytime he chose, and she told him that she felt the need to speak with him privately. This and the strange aura that surrounded her intrigued him enough that he entered her room against his better judgement.

"For you are one of my kindred elves, and I can see in your eyes that you are kind and have great understanding".

He took a seat hesitantly, and she gave him a goblet of water, which she poured out of a delicate glass decanter from her nightstand. She turned to face him, and noticed his look of discomfort. She realized that she was a stranger to him, and sought to make him feel more at ease.

"My Lord Legolas", she told him, "I have come many miles over many years to arrive finally, as I have, in Gondor, although it was not originally my destination. I know not the geography of the world. I was trying to find the Grey Havens, but somehow turned in the wrong direction. I have come through much peril but have managed to escape harm by way of much good fortune.

I have been so lonely that when I first arrived in the land of Rohan and came upon a person that I could talk to, I almost could not speak to her because I had all but forgotten how to talk. Can you understand what that was like?"

Legolas did not reply but sat and watched her wordlessly as she continued.

"During the years of the War, and preceding it, I knew something terrible was afoot, because of the stealth that I saw all around me as I traveled through Mirkwood and out to the plains and then through Fangorn Forest. I learned the names of the places in which I traveled much later, from the kind teaching of the Lady Eowyn. I somehow managed to remain hidden the entire time. I saw many orc patrols either in pursuit of troops of men and riders on horseback, or being pursued by them. I kept out of the way of everyone that I saw, because I did not know who was enemy and who was not. Eventually, I could sense that things had changed for the good. There were suddenly no more orcs, nor trolls, nor other fell creatures to be seen. I presumed that the War was then over. The few people that I saw were no longer hurrying to the next battle or trying to escape from one. I saw legions of elves streaming northwards, singing laments, and I knew that they were heading for the Grey Havens, and away from this world. The Grey Havens was the only place I had been aware of from the teaching of my parents when I was still a child and I wished to find it.

Then I finally came across a woman with two small children, to whom I felt I could trust to show myself and speak. She was making her way to a patch of berries in the woods where I was hiding. She carried a basket, and her children were jumping around merrily, filling it with fruit. I decided then to step into view, and ask her where I might find myself. As I have said before, my voice almost failed me as I could not remember my language for a moment. It had been a long time since I had spoken to anyone, and I was nervous also when I approached the woman".

"Then what happened?" Legolas asked, fascinated by her story.

"The woman explained that I had entered the country of Rohan and briefly described her people as being mostly rural folk, farmers and horse-breeders, and she offered me a place to sleep that night. However, I asked if the country had a king or queen, and she told me that the king lived in Edoras. She kindly told me how to find the Golden Hall, and that is how I met my good friend, Eowyn.

At this, Legolas raised an eyebrow, and set his chin upon his upraised hand. He shifted his weight and cleared his throat.

"To carry on, Eowyn and I hit it off immediately when I made known to her my story, such as it was. I have led such a lonely life that there wasn't much to tell, but I think that she felt sorry for me initially. This did not prevent Eowyn and I from becoming close. We are both very strong women, and felt immediately that there was a bond between us. I came to stay in Edoras on and off amid my travels all over this part of the world. I have only recently come to Minas Tirith".

"You have not told me the beginning of your story", said Legolas. "Where were you born, if I may ask?"

"In the far North. Forodwaith". Lindaril replied.

"Really? I did not know that any elves lived so far North" Legolas said with surprise.

"They don't". Lindaril said. "Would you like some more water, or perhaps wine?"

"No, nothing, thank you", said Legolas. "Of what division of elves are you? You do not look Sindarin, yet you are too small to be Noldorin. Are you one of the Avari?"

"I will tell you that some other time", she said. "For now, come, Legolas", she sat down on her bed and patted the sheets beside her. "Come and sit beside me. It is more comfortable here".

"Oh, no, no", Legolas stammered. "I cannot".

"Why not?" asked Lindaril coyly, kicking off her sandals and curling up on the bed. "Come here and I will sing to you some sweet songs", she smiled, "and then you shall do whatever I ask of you".

A/N: I would like to respond to 'Lyn', who left an anonymous review of Chapter 3. First, thank you for taking the time to leave a review at all. I have not yet posted the remainder of this story, where in the end I followed closely the information in Appendix A of "Return of the King", in which it states, "---she laid herself to rest upon Cerin Amroth, and there is her green grave, until the world is changed ---". That is how she passes in my story as well. This tale deals with life and death and there is a lot of examination of spirituality. It is the main theme of this story and I will put forward different theories for anyone who wishes to keep reading. Some of it may seem a little strange.

This is an AU tale, and as I described Arwen in Chapter 3, I referred to her inevitable death. "Passing as a shadow" is how I see us all dying, assuming that anyone's spirit does, indeed, die. Perhaps I could have worded it differently, or else not have mentioned it at all. Only the first chapter of this story has been beta'd so far. When the third chapter is beta'd, I shall probably change the wording in that section to make my thoughts clearer. Thank you again for your review.

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	6. Chapter 6

6

Valinor

The Silmarillion: P. 25: Of the Beginning of Days: "-- and Valinor became more beautiful even than Middle-earth in the Spring of Arda; and it was blessed, for the Deathless dwelt there, and there naught faded nor withered, neither was there any stain upon flower or leaf in that land, nor any corruption or sickness in anything that lived; for the very stones and waters were hallowed."

Gandalf, Bilbo, Frodo and Galadriel crossed over the Bay of Eldamar to the mainland. Elrond had told them that he would stay behind for awhile on Eressea, before making his way to Tirion, and from there to Mt. Taniquetil, to seek the audience of Manwe, the King of the Valar. He wished to apply to Manwe to be told the whereabouts of his parents and then he said he would try also to find his wife, Celebrian, who had gone to the Grey Havens in the year 2510 of the Third Age.

The Undying Lands were commonly referred to as 'Valinor', although the real Valinor was but a part of the Lands that also contained Tol Eressea. The group of friends bade goodbye to their kind hosts and new friends, Sindor and Sandor, and promised to visit them again soon. They bade Elrond farewell, and wished him good luck on his journey to reunite with his parents and his wife, and at this time the close group that had travelled from Middle-earth then separated.

The beauty of Eldamar was enchanting to Frodo as he walked amid its splendor. As it was on Tol Eressea, the lawns were of luxuriant green grass whose blades were both straight and soft, providing a lush surface to walk upon. Trees and other plants were arranged in neat rows, which curved in lines, which were pleasing to the eyes. There were almost no straight or severe lines or to be seen anywhere, as the elves preferred using curves in everything from pathways and structures, to garden beds, and even for certain of their buildings. Somehow, everything looked to be symmetrical and balanced, the curved lines notwithstanding.

The sun shone with a golden glow in the daytime, and when night fell it was sudden, as if a cloak were put in front of the sun and then was removed in the morning when it was time to awaken. There was no long sunrise or sunset as on Middle-earth. The skies were never overcast during the day, even when it rained, and at night one could look up and see all of the stars and the moon in its shimmering glory. Rain fell occasionally as a gentle showering of water, never lasting too long, and leaving afterward a feeling of clean freshness.

One was clearly left with the impression that this was truly a world created by the Gods for their own. The trees were mostly new and strange to Frodo, and bore names such as Yavannamire, which was a fragrant evergreen, and Galathilion, the image of Telperion, one of the Trees of Light of old. These trees were fashioned by Yavanna, one of the Valar, who also fashioned Nimloth, a white tree, from which was derived the White Tree of Gondor. Many other beautiful trees and plants lined the pathways and structures of Valinor, and grew all over the exceptionally exquisite lands.

Gandalf dearly wished to take the hobbits on a tour of Alqualonde, the home of the great swans of Ulmo, the God of Waters. It was an exquisite sight, a city carved out of white marble with pearl embellishments. On its harbor there was a naturally arching gate, carved out of stone by the sea, through which the great swan ships of the Teleri elves passed. However much Gandalf wished to tarry, he knew that Frodo should be taken as quickly as possible to the Isle of Este in Lake Lorellin in order to receive care for his wounds, both his mortal and his emotional ones. Gandalf himself was in a hurry to return to his home on Mt. Taniquetil, to be reunited with his master, Manwe, King of the Valar.

Gandalf knew that the final parting from Bilbo and Frodo would be extremely difficult. He gathered the hobbits and Galadriel together and told them that they would be making the journey from Eldamar to Lake Lorellin by horse-drawn wagon, as this would save their strength, and also be faster than walking the distance. In the Undying Lands, one did not really need to measure distances or time, as time never ended, and people never died. However, in these lands, everything was very well organized, and it was felt that the semblance of passage of time should be honored for those who wished to remember it. Therefore, the days were always twelve hours long, as were the nights after the cloak of darkness had been drawn over the sun. One could then measure time if one so wished.

So it was then that Gandalf, the hobbits and Galadriel set out in a horse-drawn wagon for Lake Lorellin, in the southern region of the Lands. After a time they arrived and were welcomed by Este, the Vala of Healing, and her husband Irmo, the Master of Dreams, and their many elven friends who dwelt on and around the Isle of Este. Frodo could not help but gaze upon Este with awe. She was a majestic and serene lady, clothed all in soft grey, her hair of soft-looking and shimmering ashen brown touched with a silver radiance. She wore a silver band set with opals around her head. From her eyes shone a magical pale blue light, which carried the powers of healing, and shone with the light of radiant love. When she spoke her voice was as soft as the sound of a harp being softly strummed. She had the power to heal all wounds. Wounds of the flesh were healed by the light shining from her eyes, and wounds of the mind by her soft voice. Together with her husband, Irmo, who could weave dreams of enchantment, the pains and sorrows of both Frodo and Bilbo would be cured. Galadriel, also, would be restored to her former, stronger self from the wraith-like being that she had become.

"We slowly have been coming to this time, my friends", said Gandalf to his dear Bilbo and Frodo. "Our parting has finally arrived. It should not be the last time we will see each other, however. This should not be a sad parting. I must return now to Manwe upon Mt. Taniquetil at the northern region of these Lands. It is a tall, white mountain peak, surrounded by white clouds which can hide it if there is need to do so. For now, whenever you think of me, look to the mountain. You can see it if you look hard enough. I will be thinking of you always. Now I must take my leave, my friends". Gandalf got up to go, but Frodo and Bilbo ran to embrace him.

"Farewell, dear Gandalf", cried Frodo with tears running down his cheeks. "I will miss you so!"

"Dear friend Gandalf", cried Bilbo, hugging him tightly. "I will think often of the adventures that we have shared".

The two hobbits watched Gandalf for a long time, as he rode on down the pathway to the north, looking back from time to time at them. After awhile, Este bade them follow her down a long, curving path that led to the edge of Lake Lorellin, where they boarded a small boat, and paddled to the Isle of Este in the middle of the lake, where they were taken into her house. That night they slept deeply, while Irmo wove magical dreams about them. They dreamt of home and their merry hobbit childhoods, and all their past lives were bathed in warm, golden light. When they awoke in the morning, much refreshed and feeling hale and hearty, they both decided that they would like to walk about and explore their new surroundings.

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	7. Chapter 7

7

The Road to Edoras

The next morning Gimli went into Legolas's room to find the elf so that they could discuss their plans for their upcoming journey. Legolas was not in his bed, nor was he anywhere to be seen. Gimli looked all over the room and checked the nearby rooms, and not finding him, went in search of Aragorn. He walked into the Great Hall and spied Arwen, who was sitting on a settee, doing needlepoint in the ray of sun that streamed in through one of the high windows.

"Oh, that is pretty, My Lady", he commented. "How are your children this morning?"

"They are well, Gimli, and have gone outside to play".

"I am sure that they are enjoying the fine day", said Gimli. Have you chanced to see Legolas this morning?"

"Thank you, Gimli, but no, I am sorry to tell you that I have not noticed him about the halls. Have you tried the stables, in case he may have gone for a morning ride? Someone there may have seen him", she offered.

"Thank you, Lady Arwen", said the dwarf, and withdrew. "Humph", he thought to himself, "I do not think he would have gone for a ride yet. It's too early, even for him". He continued looking down the hallway leading from the Great Hall. Presently, he came to a room with a closed door. He thought he could hear voices coming from inside, and one of them sounded a great deal like that of Legolas. He knocked on the door, which wasn't shut all the way, and it swung open as he hit it. To his great surprise, he saw Legolas standing beside a bed, naked and holding his clothes in his arms. Lindaril was sitting up in the bed, also naked, and she gasped with horror when she saw Gimli. Legolas, shocked by the sight of Gimli standing in the doorway, darted forward. Gimli cringed and slapped his hand over his eyes.

"Get out, Gimli!" yelled Legolas, and threw the first thing at hand, one of Lindaril's sandals, accurately at Gimli's head. Gimli then ducked hastily out of the room when the shoe bounced off his head, and slammed the door.

Later on in the morning, Legolas met Gimli outside of the stables, where the dwarf had gone for a smoke of his pipe by himself. "I am sorry, my friend, I must apologize for throwing that shoe at you", the elf said, shaking his head with concern for his rash action. "That was most unlike me".

"It was not the only thing that was most unlike you", retorted Gimli, blowing a smoke ring at Legolas. "After bemoaning to me the fact that you are constantly being pursued by women, and saying that you don't want any part of it, I then find you bedding one the first time you meet her! It was not a sight that I would care to behold again, while I still live!"

"I know it does not make any sense", said Legolas. "I was under a sort of spell, and did not know what I was doing. That elf-woman bewitched me. I felt quite out of control for one of the few times in my life, and I must say, I do not like the feeling. It has made me somewhat grumpy and not feeling at all myself. I need to get away to clear my head. Come, let us leave now for Moria. I do not wish to meet up with Lindaril again while we are here. I will tell you about her while we are on our way. I took our leave of everyone before I came here to the stables, so you need not go back to say goodbye."

"Leave now?" cried Gimli. "We cannot leave now!"

"Why not?" asked Legolas. " You were wanting to leave as soon as possible only a few days ago. Come on now! Let us go!" Legolas leapt up onto Arod and pulled the reins to turn the horse around.

"But I wanted to say goodbye to Aragorn, and - oh - grrr! Never mind!" Gimli growled as Arod shot past him and galloped off down the northern road. It took Gimli awhile to catch up as he had to find someone to help him get up onto Cemera. "Hammer and tongs, I hope I haven't forgotten anything important", he grumbled, as Cemera sped off down the road after Arod.

Legolas and Gimli galloped on for several miles at a very fast pace without speaking to each other, before they came to a small stand of mostly evergreen trees just before the Stonewain Valley, where they decided to stop and let the horses rest. They were keeping to the northward road and their plan was to follow it along the north side of the Druadan Forest and then turn west when they reached the road to Edoras in Rohan. They were planning to pay a visit to King Eomer before continuing on their journey to Moria.

Along this road, the war beacons of old of Gondor were located, from that of Amon Din in the south, to the Halfirien beacon at the northernmost edge of the White Mountains. The lighting of these beacons would summon the Rohirrim to come to the aid of Gondor during wartime, but during this time of peace, the beacons were no longer used, and their guardians, the beacon-wardens, had all left their posts and dispersed into the nearby villages.

The two friends let their horses drink at a nearby stream, and they themselves decided to build a fire so that Gimli could cook some food and have a smoke of his pipe before they moved on again. After they had been at camp for a while, sitting and talking, they heard the sound of approaching voices, and horse's hooves. Presently, a band of raggedy-looking men came within sight of them, leading an old horse by a rope tied around its thin neck. The poor, bedraggled animal was laden with bags and bits of furniture and other meager possessions. The men were five in number, and three looked to be of the Rohan people, but appeared more like farmers than Rohirrim. The two others seemed to be of the mountain people, or possibly of the wild men of the Druadan Forest.

"Well met, strangers", said one of the men to Legolas and Gimli.

"How do", replied Gimli.

"Mae govannen", said Legolas morosely.

"Are you all travelers out of Rohan?" asked Gimli, as the two groups of men looked each other over.

"In a manner of speaking, and reluctantly, yes", one of the men, a lanky grey-haired fellow, spoke. "My name is Eodrain, and I am from the Westfold. My companions are Halgame and Falodred from Dunharrow, and the other two are Calaquith of the Druadan Forest and Sumnarem from the White Mountains. We were once farmers, then we became soldiers. We fought in the Great War against the forces of Mordor, and then we tried to go back to farming again afterward, without any luck. I speak of Halgame, Falodred and myself. Calaquith and Sumnarem are not of our kin, but I know them to be good men. They are traveling with us".

"Will you sit with us and have some food and drink?" offered Gimli. "There is plenty. My friend Legolas is an elf, and has no need of food".

"We will not say no", replied Eodrain. "We have traveled many a mile without eating anything at all". The other men nodded and grunted in agreement. They looked malnourished and hungry.

Presently, they were all sitting and talking with Gimli, while Legolas went to tend to the poor old horse. After he had taken the rope off of its neck, and the bags off its back, he soothed it with words and gentle strokes of its poor old neck, and led it to the stream for a drink. "Please take care of him, Arod", he whispered to his own horse, and returned to join the men.

"Are you on your way to Minas Tirith?" Legolas asked of them.

"No, My Lord", spoke Eodrain. "Not Minas Tirith as such, although we travel into Gondor as there is nothing for us in Rohan any longer. The country is in poor straits since the war. There is no work for us here, nor any land left worth farming. We go to try our luck in Gondor, to see if things are any better in those lands".

"I think that you will find it so", said Gimli. "Just how badly have things become in Rohan? I used to dwell there for many years, but have lost touch since I have been away traveling".

"Too many farms were burned to the ground. Fields and crops were destroyed in great numbers. It will be many years until the land will be fit for growing anything again. And too many men have been killed in the many battles Rohan has fought. Most of the women and children, and some of the men, the old and the weak, have retreated in large numbers into the cities, such as Edoras, where they now live in poverty, scratching and begging for food and scraps. Until Rohan's boys, still too young as yet, grow into men, there is far too much for those who are left to do to rebuild. And now the people of the plains have been attacked by a deadly plague, which has swept through their lands and has left many more dead in its wake. It is from that, more than anything else, from which we are escaping", said Eodrain.

"I am much grieved to hear of this sorry state of affairs", said Gimli gravely.

"I, too, am truly saddened by what I have just heard", said Legolas. "However, I do not think that leaving your own land is the best thing you can do. In Gondor also there was much loss of life and the population of able-bodied men there was also decimated".

"We have it in our minds to go to Gondor to look for work", replied Eodrain. "We have all lost our wives and families during the fighting or the burning of our homes, or from the dreaded sickness, and there is nothing left for us in Rohan except terrible memories".

As the men made ready to continue on their way, Legolas went to re-pack their old horse, who was greatly refreshed after being able to eat, drink and rest a while.

"We are friends of the King of Rohan", Gimli told the men. "We are traveling to Edoras to visit with him. We will be sure to tell him your stories. Our blessings go with you. May you find what you are looking for in Gondor".

The men continued on their way along the road as Legolas and Gimli stood watching them, feeling shocked and helpless by the terrible stories they had just heard. "I did not realize that things were so bad outside of Gondor", said Legolas sadly. "I admit that I have been mostly concerned with my own problems and have been out of touch with Rohan. We shall have much to say when we meet with Eomer".

"I did not realize how desperate it was either", said Gimli. "I, also, have been too busy with my own affairs and did not notice anything amiss more than the usual. The people of Rohan seem to be in dire circumstances indeed, according to those poor men".

Legolas helped Gimli get up onto Cemera, and the two friends trotted off side by side. They traveled along the valley until the flat ground gave way gradually to a steep slope. Then they climbed to the higher ground and continued through a hilly, rocky area. Legolas suggested that they turn westward as he did not want either of the horses to throw a shoe. There would be no smithies for many miles or possibly not at all, according to the tales of desolation that Eodrain had told them. They were approaching the southern slope of Mt. Mindolluin, and the rocky hills began to give way to another green valley. This should be a more pleasant route for us", Legolas said to Gimli. When they reached the valley, they stopped again beside a small stream in order to let the horses drink. Legolas looked around at the countryside. They had stopped in a small enclave of green hollowed-out ground shaped like a huge shallow dish, with the stream in the middle. There were willow trees and rushes growing around one side of the dip, and on the other was a slope angling up toward the higher ground. He walked toward the trees and could see that there were woods a little further along.

"Gimli, would you like to explore those woods?" he called to his friend.

"Ah, no, if it's all the same to you, I'll just stay here and enjoy my pipe", Gimli responded. "You go on, though, and I'll keep an eye on the horses".

Legolas turned and walked toward the wooded area. Once he was surrounded by the trees and standing in the shade that they cast, he sensed that the atmosphere had changed. There was no breeze, and nothing seemed to be stirring. He felt, however, that he was not alone. He stood very still, his senses working acutely. The feeling of a presence grew stronger. He closed his eyes and stood stock-still, trying to determine the whereabouts of this presence.

Gimli had been waiting for a while with the horses when Legolas walked back out of the woods. "You took long enough!" growled the dwarf.

"I had a sense when I was in there among the trees that someone or something was very near", said Legolas. "Then the feeling went away rather suddenly. I think we are being followed, but the follower does not wish to be discovered, and has moved farther off. I think he, or it, sensed that I was aware of its presence". He looked thoughtful.

"Oh, well, that is good news!" said Gimli sarcastically. "Thank you for putting me at ease, Legolas! Come, we had better move on again. I had thought that this would be a pleasant place to stop for the night, but now you have unnerved me". He made to go for the horses.

"No, Gimli", said Legolas. "I do think this would be a good place to stop. I believe that whoever was following us has gone away now, as I do not sense a presence any longer. And if there is someone following us, then they will still be doing so, no matter where we did decide to stop. Also, this area really is open enough that if anything were to attack us, we would have enough prior warning to stop it".

Gimli snorted. "This is beginning to feel like old times! I am glad that I brought my axe. I never know when I might need it, and I am comforted that you also have your bow and arrows".

"But I do not have them", replied Legolas.

"What?" exclaimed Gimli. "Are you saying that you have not brought your bow and arrows?"

"Yes, I am saying that. I did not think that we needed to worry about being attacked, now that the war is over".

"Are you mad?" Gimli shouted. "We could still be attacked by bands of Dunlendings, or by wolves!"

Legolas looked sheepish. "To tell the truth", he said, "I probably would have brought them, but I left Minas Tirith in such a hurry that I did not think to pack them".

The two friends looked at each other. "Let us not worry about anything until there is something to worry about", said Legolas. "Come, and we will make a comfortable place to camp, and then we can talk about various things".

After they had made camp, they sat where they could see all around them in case anyone were to approach during the night. "It has saddened me to hear of Rohan's troubles from those poor old men we met earlier", said Legolas.

"I am sure that Eomer must know what is going on in his own country and is managing to deal with those problems", said Gimli, "although different people have different ways of dealing with changing times. For some it is far more difficult to adjust than for others, it seems. I mean that Gondor seems to have handled the aftermath of war much better than Rohan has".

They talked on through the night. Legolas told Gimli what had taken place between Lindaril and himself, not sparing any details.

"I am sure that she put me under a spell of some kind", he said. "Against my own wishes, I think I succumbed to having relations with her".

Gimli coughed with some discomfort at hearing of his friend's personal relationship matters. "I do not understand why something like that should bother you", he said. "Who cares if you did or you didn't? Can you not just put it behind you?"

"No", replied Legolas. "I feel quite upset about it, and very unsettled. I do not like the way I feel and it will be a while before I will be able to put it behind me".

After several hours, Legolas became suddenly alert. "Stay here", he whispered to Gimli, and, crouching down low, he sprinted swiftly toward the grove of trees. He moved as silently as a snake would slither through the grass. When he reached the edge of a patch of brush, he suddenly thrust his arm through the tall grass. There was a brief struggle, and then Legolas pulled out a small figure, cloaked in black. He carried it, while it kicked and squirmed in his grasp, back to camp, where Gimli stood holding his axe, on the ready for a battle.

Legolas set the writhing bundle on the ground, and pulled off its cape. Revealed before them was Lindaril, and she was gasping angrily, trying to find her voice.

"You!" cried Legolas. "You are the one who has been following me!"

Lindaril shivered, and drew her cape closely around her. "I can explain why you found me here", she gasped. "I have not been following you, Legolas".

"Have you not, indeed!" he cried. "I sensed your presence in the woods earlier today! If you were not following me, then what were you doing there, and why did you not make yourself known? You must have seen me!"

Lindaril shivered more violently, and drew the cape more closely around her shoulders. "I would have made my presence known, but I was in the throes of an illness that came suddenly upon me, and I could not speak at the time. When it passed, then it was too late. You had gone".

Legolas looked skeptical. "I do not believe you", he said. "It is not possible that you should be sick. You are an elf, as I am, and we do not get sick, or feel the cold. Why do you shiver so?"

"Well, I am sick, and I do feel the cold", she replied testily. "I do not understand why it is so, but I have not been feeling well for a long time. I feel that something is growing inside me that should not be there, and I feel as if it is slowly destroying me from inside out. At times I feel a sharp pain in the center of my body, which turns me cold and then I start to shiver and shake. If I wait quietly, it passes in a few minutes. I am traveling in the same direction as you because I am on my way to the Grey Havens. I have decided to leave Middle-earth at this time, to escape my illness, because if I do not, then I believe that I shall die".

Legolas looked at Lindaril intently. "I do not know if what you say is true or not", he said. "A lot does not make sense to me. For instance, why do you travel on foot if you are so ill, and not on horseback?"

Lindaril coughed slightly, and looked as if a twinge of pain was passing through her. "I cannot manage to look after a horse if a spell overtakes me", she said. "The spells come more frequently now than they used to, but in between them, I am all right, and traveling by foot is the way I have always traveled, and I do not mind it. If a spell comes, I can lie down until it passes".

"Well", said Legolas, "You have told a strange tale, and it is not the first we have heard today. This has been a strange day in many ways".

Gimli spoke slowly. "The world is changing in many odd ways as we enter unforeseen times", he said. "Perhaps it is possible at this time for elves to get certain illnesses. There are strange plagues about, and much upheaval of the lands. Come, lass. Please lie down and try to rest. We will build a fire to warm you, and we can talk more when the morning comes".

Gimli led Lindaril to a comfortable spot to lie down on the grass, and spread a blanket out for her. He then covered her with another warm blanket from his saddlebag. Legolas spent the rest of the night sitting as far away from Lindaril as possible, staring at the fire as it shrank into red, glowing embers, and keeping a wary eye on her at the same time.

When the red sun of morning broke the horizon, Gimli and Lindaril awoke to find that Legolas had made the horses ready. "As soon as you are able to leave, I will let you ride upon Arod", he said to Lindaril, "and I will walk alongside. You may come with us as far as Edoras, which is where we are headed, and then we will part company with you there".

"Legolas", said Gimli. "Do not be so hasty! Please let the lady have something to eat first, and prepare herself for the ride! Would you like some elvish waybread?" he asked. "Or would you prefer something warm to drink? I have heated up some mead".

Lindaril blanched, and she looked very pale. "You are kind, but I really do not feel like eating anything", she said.

"Then please have some mead, at least", said Gimli. "It will warm you inside. You will need some sustenance for the journey". He offered her a cup of liquid that he had warmed in the dying embers of the fire. She took it and gingerly drank some. Then she smiled weakly at Gimli.

"You are being very kind to me", she said to him, "whereas Legolas is not".

Gimli looked at Lindaril sadly. "Legolas does not mean to be unkind", he said. "It is not his way at all. Please do not feel that you have to leave Middle-earth on his account, if that truly is what you are doing".

"You do not understand, Master Gimli", replied Lindaril. "My troubles began long before I met the two of you. As I drifted between despair and happiness for most of my life, I reflected on how interesting life is because of those two opposites. When I was in despair I began to strive only for satisfaction, never assuming that I could ever achieve happiness. When struggling through bouts of despair, I tried to let it not consume me, but simply counted the days until the cloud lifted. It helped if I adopted some form of ritual during the worst times, because that was a comfort to me. I would walk in the morning when the dew was on the ground and rejoice in the beauty of the lands, or eat only foods that I liked most. I bathed daily, to refresh myself, and I sang only my favorite songs".

"Harrumph. Well, that sounds very interesting", said Gimli. He found himself uncomfortably wondering why people had a tendency to choose him on which to unload details of their personal problems.

Legolas looked impatient. "Could we please be on our way?" he asked. "I do not wish to linger here much longer. The sooner we get to Edoras, the sooner it suits me".

Lindaril sighed. "You do not need to go out of your way to show that you do not care for me", she said. "Do not worry. After we reach Edoras, you will not see me anymore. I wish only to bid farewell to the Lady Eowyn, who showed me kindness in the past, and then I shall leave for the Grey Havens as soon as I may".

Legolas looked at her curiously, but did not say anything. He merely nodded at her as if to make his agreement with her decision known.

The three travelers then packed up and moved on, Lindaril and Gimli on horseback, and Legolas on foot. After a few hours of traveling, they came to a hilly area, and decided to turn northeast again, and follow the valley that would lead them past the beacon-hill of Nardol. As Legolas could walk at a very fast pace and run without tiring, he had no trouble keeping up with the horses, and they were able to cover quite a long distance in the course of a day. They had no wish to stop again before the next nightfall, so they kept going until they reached the outskirts of a small village. They could see a few sharecroppers' huts in the distance, dotted here and there on the sparse landscape.

As they approached along the well-worn road, which was, in the past, frequently used by stonemasons and quarrymen, Legolas's keen eyes spotted in the distance a woman crossing their path. She walked with halting steps and appeared to be carrying a small bundle in her arms. She was making for a pile of rocks on the roadside. He saw her then place the bundle, which was tightly wrapped, down upon the rocks, and then she turned and stumbled back the way she had come and disappeared into the hut closest to the three travelers.

Legolas, alarmed by what he had seen, halted the horses, and told Gimli and Lindaril to wait. He walked toward the rocks slowly, to look at what the woman had put there, not knowing what he would find. As he drew closer, he spotted the bundle lying in a crevice between two rocks. It was moving slightly, and he bent down to look at it and reached out to pull back its covering. Gimli and Lindaril, who had been watching Legolas, heard him cry out in anguish. Gimli nudged Cemera forward, a look of concern on his face. Arod did not need to be nudged, and shot forward when he heard his master's cry.

Legolas had picked up the bundle and was holding it close to his chest as he ran back to show his companions what was in it. When he unwrapped it, they saw that inside a dirty cloth was a baby girl, all skin and bone and naked. She looked barely alive and she did not or could not cry because of her weakness. Gimli and Lindaril looked stricken.

"Great open pits!" cried Gimli.

"This poor child is half dead!" exclaimed Legolas with anguish. "I am at a loss. I know not what is best to be done. I would like to run her back to Minas Tirith where Aragorn can tend to her with his powers of healing, but I will have to take her on foot, and she may die before I can get there, but I know not what else to do. I saw a woman from that nearby hut placing her here on the rocks to die, I think. One of us should go to try to find out why she has done such a thing. I will have to leave you now and make haste to Minas Tirith". He turned to go, but Lindaril pulled Arod's reins and the horse blocked his way and stopped him.

"No, Legolas, do not go", she said. "I also possess some healing powers. Let me try to help her while you go to the hut to see why her mother left her on the rocks". She took the baby from Legolas and drew back the cloth to look at her more closely. "If you can find it, I will need some hot water, swaddling clothes - clean, if possible - and some fresh mother's milk. If the woman is the child's mother, perhaps she can give us some".

Legolas nodded. He gently placed his hand on Lindaril's shoulder in a gesture of goodwill. "Thank you", he said softly.

He and Gimli then ran towards the woman's hut. Legolas stopped after a few paces. He was sniffing the air.

"What is it, Legolas?" asked Gimli.

"I smell a sickness swirling on the wind", the elf replied.

"Oh, that is good news", Gimli said sarcastically.

The two approached the hut very slowly. When they came up to it, they saw that the door was open. They went inside. Within, the hut was in poor condition. It had a dirt floor, which was covered in filth. They could see a woman lying on a dirty pallet in one corner. The only other occupants of the hut were a goat and a lantern. There was nothing else in the small dark room, no dishes, or any remnants of food. The hut stank of a foul odor. Legolas and Gimli approached the woman, who stirred slightly and groaned. Kneeling down beside her, Legolas touched her arm with a light hand.

"We are travelers who mean you no harm", he said. "We saw you put a baby on the rocks beside the road. She is not dead, but she is very weak and we wish to help her. Can you tell us why you did such a thing?"

The woman turned over slowly so that she could see the person who was speaking to her. Her face was thin and dirty, and her hair was dull and dry. She looked fairly young, but extremely ill. She gazed in wonder at Legolas, and thought that he must be an angel sent to take her to a better place.

"My name is Elspeth", she said, her voice thin and weak. "My baby and I have the plague. Do not come near us. I thought she was near death and placed her where I buried her father not four days ago. I meant to bury her as well, but I was too weak to dig her grave. I thought to rest before I made another attempt at digging".

Legolas could see that the woman was covered in sores.

"We are two elves and a dwarf, and we cannot catch that from which you suffer", he said. "We would like to help you. Is there no one else living in the nearby area?"

"No, not anymore", she replied, in a parched, hoarse voice. She coughed up some phlegm. Legolas lifted her up by the shoulders so that she could better clear her lungs. "My people are all dead. The plague has taken all of them. Robbers, too, have come and taken all of our possessions, such as they were", she added.

"We see that you have a goat", said Legolas. "Can you give us milk for your baby? If not, we can milk the goat for you. Thankfully, it is a female, as I can see".

Elspeth tried to sit up. "My milk has dried up", she said. "And I became too weak to milk the goat. She needs to be milked. But Enna is not dead?"

"No, if that is your baby's name, then she is not", replied Legolas, "but she is close enough to it. However, we shall try to feed her and see if that does not invigorate her". Legolas picked up a rag from the floor and gently wiped the woman's face with it. He tried to clean some of the dirt and old vomit from her clothing and bed linens.

Gimli then walked over to the goat. "I can see that this poor animal needs a milking, and soon", he said. "I shall go and fetch our pot, and then see to milking her. I shall build a fire to warm some water as well, and then we can begin to clean up your living quarters". He ran outside to tend to his chores.

Lindaril was treating the baby with some herbs that she had brought with her in a shoulder bag in order to use for her own illness. She had started a fire over which a pot of water was boiling, which Lindaril had hung over the fire suspended between two branches. Gimli looked at her with some admiration in his face.

"You are very resourceful", he remarked. "The baby's mother is indeed lying inside the hut, and she has a goat which I am going to milk, so that the child can be fed, if you think that she needs milk in her state. The mother tells us that they both have the plague, and that it has killed her husband".

"This baby has some sores that have dried up", said Lindaril. "I have given her an infusion of Athelas and some boiled water that should see her strength returning soon. I do not think that she is going to die. She has no cough, nor fever. Her lungs are clear. Can you hold her, please, Gimli, while I go to look at her mother?"

"Er- humph - well - " stammered Gimli, as Lindaril placed the baby in his arms and dashed off toward the hut.

After speaking to Elspeth and looking her over very thoroughly, Lindaril turned to Legolas. "I do not believe that this lady and her baby are going to die", she said. "The worst part of the sickness seems to be gone, as they do not have fever, and their sores are healing. They are both very weak, though, and the mother still is coughing. I do not think that they should stay here". She looked around the hut with distaste.

"Lindaril, you have proved yourself to be a much worthier person than I had before thought you to be", said Legolas. "I feel I must apologize to you for speaking harshly and treating you discourteously".

"Legolas, you really are an obstinate fool!" she replied.

Legolas looked shocked. "How dare you speak to me that way! I am a king, and I had the grace at least to apologize to you!"

"You are no king of mine", she retorted. "Please come outside, as I wish to tell you something that I had vowed I would never tell another living person. However, I think now that you need to know it, as I shall be leaving Middle-earth very soon".

Legolas was aghast that Lindaril could turn so quickly from being a caring nurse to Enna and Elspeth, to thinking only of herself again. He followed her outside, but then she said, "I have changed my mind again. I do not have time to talk to you now. This woman and her baby need tending, and then I think that they should be taken to Minas Tirith, as you had first suggested. I shall take them, as I can look after them on the road".

"Will you not perhaps be overcome by a spell of sickness on the road?" asked Legolas, "as you before mentioned? Then how will you look after a horse, a sick woman and her baby?"

Lindaril shot him a look of anger. "That is a chance I must take", she replied, and went to retrieve some clean clothing and herbs from the provisions she had brought with her.

17


	8. Chapter 8

8

The Return of the Darkness

The Silmarillion: P. 16: Valaquenta: "Irmo the younger is the master of vision and dreams. In Lorien are his gardens in the land of the Valar, and they are the fairest of all places in the world, filled with many spirits. Este the gentle, healer of hurts and of weariness, is his spouse. Grey is her raiment; and rest is her gift."

The Valar had always anticipated the return of Morgoth, even though they had taken away his powers at the end of the First Age of Middle-earth, and had destroyed his fortress of Angband and all of the lands of Beleriand in the War of Wrath, in order to rid the world of him.

Manwe, the High King, was with Varda, his Queen, in their private rooms in their palace on Mt. Taniquetil, when a powerful force suddenly hit him. It temporarily knocked him into a state of sub consciousness, where his own thought was removed, and a strange consciousness entered his mind in place of it. He fought against it, and succeeded in ridding his mind of the intruder, but it managed to leave a clear message in his thoughts before he forced it out.

"You shall perish", were the words that resonated in his mind, and the feeling he was left with was of a hatred so strong and so dark, that he knew instantly that it came from Morgoth. He knew not how this could come to be after the world had been free of Morgoth's menace for so long, since the Valar had thrown him into the Void two full ages ago, but Manwe was also struck by a feeling of inevitability, and therefore was not surprised by the return of Morgoth's evil force.

He then turned to Varda, his beloved spouse, who had been watching him with some feeling of dread and knowledge that something was gravely wrong as he was being tormented by the black thought. "He has returned", Manwe told her, and took her hand. He held it up to his face, where a tear ran down his cheek.

Frodo walked about the Isle of Este, taking in the sights and atmosphere of the Gardens of Lorien. The Gardens were named after Este's husband, Irmo, whose name was Lorien also, but who was more generally known as Irmo. The landscape was beautiful. Where the Shire, Frodo's old home, had been lush and pastoral, with its colorful cottage gardens and brightly painted hobbit holes, Lorien was, as was all of Valinor, more cultured and structured. As Frodo discovered, when the Valar had first arranged the landscapes of Middle-earth, they had imagined its symmetry to be perfectly harmonious in all of its elements, but when Morgoth ruined it, out of his malice and his lust to destroy, what resulted was some ugliness mixed with beauty. Thus, on Middle-earth, one would see such things as jagged lava rocks and foul cesspools juxtaposed with smooth, rolling green hills and streams running with clear, fresh water. Dusty, desert wastelands would appear next to majestic, snow-capped mountain peaks. There would be clear blue skies one day, yet thunderstorms and lightning the next, and so on. The Valar had wanted Middle-earth to be as perfectly beautiful as Valinor, but it was the wicked legacy of Morgoth that parts of it had been ruined, and the reality was that Middle-earth had been irreparably marred.

When the Valar had arranged for the separation of the Undying Lands from Middle-earth, they then were able to fix most of the physical problems that Morgoth had created on Valinor, but those on Middle-earth remained behind as part of its unique landscape. On Valinor, one could walk in valleys surrounded by identical, symmetrical mountain ranges on either side, as if one were walking in a vast, green, outdoor corridor. Its lakes were in perfect shapes of circles, eggs, or ovals. Perfectly spaced trees and shrubs would line the lakes in a set order; perhaps a willow next to a clump of bulrushes, next to a lotus plant, and this combination would be repeated in identical order around the entire lake.

Frodo stopped beside a small pond in Este's garden, and decided to go swimming in the clear, inviting water. He looked around, but did not see anyone nearby. Feeling quite alone and safe, and protected from view by the surrounding shrubbery, he removed his clothing as he saw the elves do on Tol Eressea, and slipped naked into the water. It felt warm and soothing on his weary body. The wound in his shoulder from the Witch-king's sword-blade was already feeling somewhat better since he had left Middle-earth, as was the wound in his neck from the spider's sting. He swam with his eyes closed, floating for a while on his back, and then turning to dive under the surface so that he could look down at the bottom. He could not see anything but fine, soft sand carpeting the floor of the pond, and it continued up the sides and onto the banks, surrounding the pond with its fine, white border.

He swam for a while, letting himself be soothed and refreshed by the water flowing over him with its gentle ripples. Presently, he became aware of a figure standing on the bank. Water was in his eyes as he blinked, startled, trying to see who it was. The tall figure was clothed in grey, with a pale blue light shining from her eyes. Frodo could then see that it was Este, who had come to find him. She walked down the slope to the sand and there spread out a grey blanket.

"Good morning, Frodo", she greeted him warmly. "How do you find the water?"

"It is warm and very nice", Frodo replied, a little embarrassed. He could not help but stare at Este in fascination. She reminded him in a way of Galadriel, but without the remoteness of the elf. They both possessed a certain otherworldly quality.

"You are likely wondering why I have come to find you", Este said in her kind voice. "I was hoping that we could begin our healing sessions. If you like, I think this would be a perfect place in which to start".

"I am sorry if I have trespassed", said Frodo, "but I had a feeling that compelled me to get up and explore these grounds as soon as I awoke this morning".

"Do not worry", said Este to soothe him. "It is perfectly all right for you to do so. This is your home for as long as you wish. Here, there are no rules as you may have had back home, which forbade you to trespass, or some other such nonsense. Here, no one is filled with malice toward any other, and there is no need for anyone to commit any crimes; therefore, there is no need for anyone to try to keep anyone else out, or for trespassing. If one desires, one may walk anywhere one chooses. None of the lands here are "owned". They are merely looked after by those who care most deeply about them. These people consider their care to be labors of love, not chores. I am sure that it will take a while for you and your uncle Bilbo to become accustomed to our ways here, but one day you will understand them a little better".

"You seem to know a great deal about us", said Frodo, surprised.

Este laughed. "We, the Valar, are experts at communicating with each other, and with our Maiar helpers. Mithrandir, or Gandalf, as you call him, has been most helpful in telling Irmo and myself all about you. Now, if you are ready, please come out of the water, and I will begin tending to your wounds and your sorrows". She reached down, and gently lifted Frodo out of the water.

Este set Frodo down carefully on the grey blanket. He could feel the warmth of the sand beneath it. He was embarrassed about his nakedness, and he blushed. Este saw this and smiled at him. "Another of our ways that you will become accustomed to in time here is that we are not ashamed of our nakedness. We know that we are all children of the same maker. Also, here on Valinor, we are all old souls, not at all the same as those people of Middle-earth, where you have come from. There, the world is young and fresh for those who are not immortal, and it needs to be populated. Carnal feelings exist, therefore, for the purpose of having children to continue the various species there. But here, no new children will ever be born. For many of us, carnal desire is much lessened. We can take solace, then, in being comfortable with our bodies, and ourselves, and be natural and go about as we wish. Our world of Valinor is continually being populated by new arrivals every so often from Middle-earth, as the elves, and people such as yourself, gradually leave it to come here. We will be connected to Middle-earth until the remainder of the elves come to our shores, but we are all immortal here. You and Bilbo have been given a longer life here than you would have had otherwise. Remember that, Frodo, as it is of fundamental importance. Now, please close your eyes and reflect on what I have just told you, as it will help you to begin your adjustment to your new life here".

With that, Este began to pass her hands over Frodo's body, up and down, without actually touching him. She chanted softly as she did so, and then brought from under her cloak a small vial of sweet-smelling oil, which she began to spread over his upper torso with smooth, caressing strokes.

"You may open your eyes now, Frodo", she said after a while. Frodo opened them and met Este's gaze. The blue light from her eyes shone into his own and transported him to a faraway place. He lost all sense of time and space. When he returned to the present, he felt stronger. Este smiled down at him. "That will be the end of our first session", she told him. "How do you feel?"

"I feel wonderful", he replied. "Bigger, or something like it, if that is possible. It feels strange to say that, but I do not know how else to describe it. Bigger! That's how I feel".

Este laughed. "That is all for now. We shall do this again tomorrow. Now, I must go and find your uncle, so I shall leave you alone to get dressed, and I am sure that you will want to go and eat something".

"Are you going to do the same thing with Bilbo as you did with me?" asked Frodo.

"No, not the same thing", replied Este. "But he is old, and I am going to make him young again". She smiled at Frodo and left in search of the old hobbit.

Frodo was startled by her words. He continued to dress himself, thinking that he had a lot to digest after his session with Este. He felt invigorated, and very hungry. He struggled a bit in getting his trousers back on, as they seemed to stick when he tried to pull them up. "It must be because I am still wet", he thought.

Este found Bilbo in her great room, which served also as a library, as he was poring over one of her books. "Sticklebacks!" he exclaimed. "My eyes have grown so dim that I cannot see well enough to read anymore!" He seemed quite upset by this. Este looked at him compassionately, and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Dear Bilbo", she said. "I have come to help you regain your previous strength and to make you feel better".

"What do you mean?" asked Bilbo. "What can you do? I have grown old and it is not lost on me that I now must spend an eternity as an old man, unable to enjoy the pleasures that I used to, such as reading and writing".

"Dear Bilbo", Este said once more. "I am Este, the Vala of Hurts and Sorrows. I do have the power to rejuvenate you. Please look at me".

Bilbo looked at her with wonder in his old, dim eyes. Blue light shone out of her eyes into his, and he could feel a warm sensation coursing through them and healing them. Presently, she released his gaze from hers.

"Now, try again to read your book", she said.

Bilbo looked down at the book upon his lap. The runes on it stared back at him and they were clear. He looked up at Este, elated. "But this is wonderful!" he exclaimed. Then he burst into tears.

Este put her arms around Bilbo and let him cry. After a while, he stopped, wiped his eyes, and looked up at her.

"I am sorry to seem ungrateful", he said. "I have much to thank you for. I will start by thanking you for restoring my eyesight. I am most humbled".

Este smiled at him. "Bilbo, I find you most engaging. My husband and I are here for just that reason, to heal the wounds of the suffering and the afflicted. Tonight, Irmo will weave a web of sleep and dreams about you that will return you to a former youthful state. Over a period of time, you will find that you will become stronger and more able to enjoy your life. You are immortal now, Bilbo, so you may as well be fit enough to enjoy it!"

Este and Bilbo then looked at each other with glee and burst into laughter.  
The following morning, Frodo entered Este's library to find her and Bilbo engaged in conversation.

"Do you have any maps that I can look at here?" Bilbo was asking.

"Maps?" Este enquired in return.

"Yes, yes", replied Bilbo. "Maps. I would very much like to plan a route for exploring, and I will need to see some maps!"

"I am afraid that we do not have any here", said Este. "You see, everyone in these Lands knows where everything is. Nothing ever changes on Valinor, and no one ever dies. The new people who arrive here are shown about by the others, and they quickly find somewhere to live. Most prefer to wander about not knowing ahead of time what they will find until they get there. They wish to have the experience of discovery. They are aware that there is no danger here, and therefore no need to plan a route around it."

Bilbo was very surprised to find that no one in Valinor had any maps at all. "Well, I never!" he exclaimed. Then his eyes became bright as he thought of an idea. "Would you mind if I made some?"

"Made some maps?" asked Este. "Of course I do not mind, Bilbo, but how are you going to accomplish this?"

Bilbo beamed. "If I could gather some supplies - some very large sheets of parchment and a lot of charcoal, paints, brushes and yardsticks - that should do very well for a start", he said. "I have had some experience making maps. I have made a few on Middle-earth, of the Lonely Mountain and the surrounding area. Oh, how I miss my old country! I shall be happy indeed to be able to continue this interest of mine in these new lands".

"Then I shall be pleased to help you arrange this map-making project", said Este. "But first, Irmo and I must finish restoring the rest of your energy, before you can engage on an expedition. Tonight, he will weave his web of youthful dreams about you and you shall find yourself much livelier in the morning".

Frodo was astounded when he heard the news. "How can you become a map-maker, Uncle?" he asked. "Your eyesight is not at all what it used to be."

Este and Bilbo looked at each other and chuckled. Este then told Frodo, "I have restored your uncle's sight. Did I not tell you that I was going to make him young again? Bilbo, why did you not tell Frodo about this?"

Bilbo, still chuckling, replied, "I was just having a little fun. I was going to surprise him when I thought of a way I could do it humorously".

"Bilbo!" Frodo laughed. "You are up to your old mischief again! I should have guessed that something was afoot! Your hair has started to become darker again, and if I did not know better, you look somewhat taller as well!"

Bilbo laughed, and turned to leave the room. "I am going in search of a very large breakfast!" he said. "Then I shall start putting some supplies together for my trip!"

Este went to Frodo and put her arm around him. "He is taller than he was, Frodo", she said, "and he will become taller still. Have you looked at yourself today?"

Frodo was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Come and look in the mirror", she said, gesturing toward a large gilt-edged looking glass leaning upon an easel in a corner of the room. She led Frodo to it and let him stare at his reflection. He gazed in amazement at the curly-haired hobbit he saw before him. His clothes were much too small! His hands extended below his shirtsleeves by at least two inches, and his shirt and pants were very tight. His legs were longer and his shoulders broader. He was astonished that he had not noticed this before!

"How do you like your new self?" Este asked him.

"It is wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I did not know that such a thing could happen! I look almost elf-like, I am so very tall and slim!"

Este laughed. "Well, you have a long way to go before you become that tall and slim!" she exclaimed. "But eventually you will become so, I promise you!"

"I do not wish to seem ungrateful", he said, turning to look at Este with an expression of concern, "but why are you doing this? I do not see the need. For Bilbo, certainly I can see the need to restore his eyesight and make him stronger in body, but for me - aside from my illnesses, I do not see - "

"It is for a reason, Frodo", Este replied. "You will need to be of larger stature and be stronger in order to be equal to everyone else who dwells here. You may need to undertake some difficult tasks in your future, and therefore must have some evenness in stature with the elves. I cannot tell you more about your future, as I do not know myself what lies there. I have been asked to prepare you for an adventure".

"Is it to go with Bilbo on his map-making expedition?" Frodo asked. "I can imagine that many unexpected things may lie ahead of us in an uncharted land".

"Yes, perhaps it is that", said Este softly. "Come now, and let us find your uncle".

Bilbo had eaten a very hearty meal which had invigorated him, and was busy packing up some map-making paraphernalia that the elves of Este's household had brought to his room for him.

"I am very excited about my new journey, Frodo", Bilbo said. "I am planning to leave in perhaps a fortnight, or at least as soon as Este and Irmo have finished making me strong enough for all of the traveling I will have to do".

"You know, Uncle", said Frodo, "I think that I will go with you this time, if you don't mind. It will be the first time that we have gone on an adventure together, won't it?"

Bilbo hugged Frodo closely. "Of course I don't mind, my dear boy. You have made me a very happy old hobbit, indeed. Just think! Our first adventure together!"


	9. Chapter 9

9

Lindaril's Secret

The Silmarillion: P. 250: The Fall of Gondolin: "The fume of the burning, and the steam of the fair fountains of Gondolin withering in the flame -- fell upon the vale of Tumladen in mournful mists -- nonetheless they came thither, and beyond hope they climbed, in woe and misery, for the high places were cold and terrible, and they had among them many that were wounded, and women and children."

An opportunity did not present itself later that night for Lindaril to speak to Legolas, as a fell wind blew in from the east while the three companions were busy tending to the various chores they had set for themselves. The storm damaged Elspeth's hut so badly that Legolas and Gimli did not think that by repairing it, it would prevent the same thing from happening again, and they knew that Elspeth and Enna could not remain there by themselves. The huts in this tiny community stood in open plains, and were vulnerable to winds and other dangers. Legolas was saddened by the thought of the poor peasant people who had lived in this place and had suffered such a hard life were all dead and gone now, and their homes destroyed. He took Gimli aside.

"I do not think that Elspeth and her baby should stay here any longer. They are too sick and their community is gone. Lindaril has offered to ride back to Minas Tirith with them. I agree with her that they should leave here as soon as possible, although I did not agree with her last night. It goes against me to agree with anything that elf-sorceress decides; however, I must put my personal feelings aside in order to choose the right course of action, and I do believe that they should go. It pains me to have to move them now, though, before I think they are ready for such an arduous journey".

"I agree with Lindaril too, Legolas", replied Gimli. "It would be too far to take them with us to Edoras, therefore Minas Tirith is the wiser choice. Because it has the Houses of Healing as well, these poor folk can be tended to by the healers there".

"Then it is decided", said Legolas. "Lindaril also has powers of healing, and can tend to Elspeth and her child on the journey, if she does not take ill herself. As far as that goes, I am not sure that I believe all of her story about her illness. Elves cannot become sick or weak, as she claims to be".

However, as Lindaril was readying herself for the journey back to Minas Tirith, she took ill again. She began to shiver violently, and Legolas saw that she had become deathly pale and looked to be in danger of swooning.

"Are you all right?" he asked, alarmed by the sight of her. Trembling, she clutched at his arm as he tried to hold her steady.

"No, I am not all right", she whispered between clenched teeth, "but this episode will pass in a short time. I am still determined to take Elspeth and her baby to Minas Tirith. I shall be fine in a moment".

"I do not understand how an elf can become so ill", exclaimed Legolas, not believing his eyes.

"I have been through much hardship to get here from my old home in the North", Lindaril trembled, "as I have told you before. I ate strange berries and roots when I needed to eat, and drank water from strange pools. I may have been poisoned somehow by some fell design of the dark forces while they still existed".

"Then surely they would have poisoned all of us", said Legolas. "My friends and I also traveled through strange places and ate and drank as you did".

"Perhaps it was inadvertent poisoning", said Lindaril. "I may have been the only unlucky elf to have stumbled across the one thing that was poisonous to our kind, without knowledge of what it was".

"It is a mystery, to be sure", replied Legolas, "one in which luck seems to have played a role".

They packed the provisions that they thought Lindaril and her charges would need for the journey, and left the rest behind. Lindaril sat astride Arod with Elspeth behind her, bundled in Lindaril's warm cloak, and the baby was placed between them, covered with warm blankets. Lindaril looked down at Gimli and Legolas.

"I will see you in Edoras in ten days hence, if luck be with me", she said. Farewell".

Elspeth looked down at Legolas and Gimli with a sad, weak smile. "May you both be blessed for all your kindness".

"Go, Arod", Legolas whispered into the horse's ear. "Take them by a safe and fast route to the White City, and then run back to Edoras like the wind. I will meet you there, my friend". The horse nodded his fine head and whinnied. Then Arod sped off down the road, his white tail streaming behind him, his hooves pounding in the dust.

Legolas and Gimli watched them gallop away until they could no longer see them. Then elf and dwarf turned north and began their long journey to Edoras, Gimli riding the pony Cemera, who was now laden with all of their supplies, and Legolas on foot. During the journey they saw signs of the devastation in Rohan that Eodrain had told them about. They saw farmers' fields, which had been blackened by fire, empty villages, and dead animal carcasses rotting in the sun. They saw forested areas, once green and majestic, which were now ravaged by fire and by the wanton cutting and hewing of trees.

Occasionally they would come across other people who were traveling toward Gondor, and some who were going in the other direction, toward Edoras, following the same route as elf and dwarf. All had different measures of desperation about them, and sad stories to tell of loss, either of their homes and loved ones, or their occupations, or both. Curiously, the various bands of travelers, and even the single wanderers, did not wish to travel together with any other group, but preferred to continue alone. It was as if a strange melancholy had descended like a new type of sickness upon anyone who ventured through these lands of devastation. Legolas and Gimli were affected too, by the despair, and felt themselves become unhappy wanderers.

At one point at about sunset on the third day, they were attacked by a pack of coyotes, very thin beasts, obviously starving, and desperate enough to attack two men and a pony. Legolas and Gimli had come upon them as the animals, ravenous with hunger, were tearing into a wild turkey at the side of the road. Gimli drove them off with his axe, and Legolas was convinced that he needed a bow and some arrows, and decided that he would have to make them with his own hands.

"I curse myself for not bringing my own bow and arrows with me", he complained to Gimli. "I had no idea that I would find myself in need of them. I am very worried about Lindaril, Elspeth, and Enna. What if they have been attacked as we have been?"

"You should have known better", said Gimli. "You should have known that your bow and arrows would have been needed on a long journey such as this. As time goes by, I am becoming more and more surprised at you, Legolas. But as for Lindaril and Elspeth, they are on their own now, and luck be with them".

They stopped so that Legolas could search among the ruins of some trees for an appropriate piece of wood that he could fashion into a bow. He found a promising piece after much searching, and borrowed one of Gimli's axe heads, which was sharp enough for Legolas to carve the wood into the correct shape. Then he carved some shafts for the arrows out of strong, hard wood, and for a string he used a piece of dried gut from a dead pig that he found in a deserted hut. For the arrow feathers, he took some from the dead turkey, and Gimli used his axe to split some flint stones, and they used the sharpest pieces, honing them on a suitable piece of rock, for the arrowheads.

Once the bow and arrows were made, Legolas tried them to see if they would work well enough for shooting. He set up several targets, using bits of pigskin and turkey feathers stuck to trees, at several different distances. He then shot arrows at each target, and all of them found their marks.

Legolas laughed. "This does not work quite as well as my old bow, but it will do fine, I think!"

"Pickaxes and shovels! You have not lost any of your old skill!" exclaimed Gimli.

When all was made ready, the two companions set off again. Without any further trouble, they arrived at Edoras the following day. Eomer, who had been king of Rohan since the death of his uncle, King Theoden in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, greeted them as they entered the Golden Hall. Both Legolas and Gimli had spent much time there in the past, during the war. They and Eomer were great friends. Although Eomer was not a member of the Fellowship of the Ring, he had been a staunch ally of theirs, and had become very close to them. He was closer to Gimli, the two of them having had an ongoing argument over who was the fairest lady, Galadriel being Gimli's choice, or Arwen, who was preferred by Eomer. The two had called a truce at last, and Gimli had come to know Eomer very well during his time living in the Glittering Caves of Helm's Deep in Rohan, where Eomer often used to visit him.

"I am well pleased to see you again, my friends", he told them. Eomer was a tall, strong man, an expert horseman and a mighty warrior. He found himself not as comfortable at having to deal with political matters and having to attend meetings and discussions, as he had been on horseback, fighting battles. "What brings you to Edoras at this time?"

"We have made plans to travel further north", replied Gimli, "and thought that we would stop to visit with you before we continue on our way".

"Yes", said Legolas, "and I must tell you Eomer, that we have had a most unsettling adventure on our way here".

"Come into the Hall and sit with me", offered Eomer. "Tell me what troubles you have had. It seems to be a normal sign of our unhappy times that our friends should experience troubles when they visit our lands".

Eomer's sister, Eowyn, and her husband, Prince Faramir of Ithilien, were also visiting Eomer, and heartily welcomed Legolas and Gimli. Legolas knew Faramir very well, as he was ruler of the Province of Ithilien, a part of which housed Legolas's elven realm of Ithilorien, and the two saw each other often. They shared a love of arts and of philosophy, and both had been great warriors in their time, but more out of necessity than of love for fighting.

After the welcoming had taken place, and their guests had refreshed themselves and had partaken of some food and drink, Eomer and Faramir took turns telling of the troubles that they were struggling with in Rohan. Eomer said that he, Faramir and Eowyn were trying to come up with some ideas for helping the people, and for rebuilding their farms. Luckily, the people of Edoras had escaped the plague that had decimated the southern regions of their land. It did not seem to have reached those who lived in the mountainous regions, where Edoras was located.

Faramir said that Aragorn had sent him to buy a large number of horses from Eomer. "We are attempting to encourage the Rohirrim to return to ranching and horse breeding", said Faramir. "It is felt that that is what they do best and there is a ready market for horses in Gondor, as we attempt to reinstate our cavalry. Aragorn thinks that because Gondor is open to possible attack from the south and from any forces coming down the river, that he needs to keep a good army ready for battle at any given time. Gondor has always been proud of maintaining its good defenses, and Aragorn feels that he should continue that tradition".

Eomer responded by saying that Rohan's population had been decimated by the war, and mainly its able-bodied men. "In order to breed more horses, we need men to feed them, build fences, corral the horses, train them, look after them, and the list goes on. We need farmers to grow hay and harvest it for feed. The deadly plague has effectively destroyed what was left of our farmlands. We need strong men for building fences, some new housing, and the list just goes on and on. We simply do not have the manpower any longer to accomplish all that we must to help our people". His frustration was evident to the others as he pounded his fists on the table. Legolas noticed that he had developed a twitching vein in his temple.

Faramir spoke softly yet persausively. "Then sell us horses. With what we pay you, and you will be well paid, you can begin your rebuilding".

Eowyn then told him, "Faramir has said that he and Aragorn will send you some soldiers from Gondor's army to help bolster your manpower. Do not forget also that some of Rohan's women and the stronger of its young boys would be very much interested in learning to be ranchers. They will not mind doing the hard work that is involved as long as it means they will have food on their tables, clothes on their backs, homes to call their own, and livelihoods of which to be proud. The incentive for you lies in the offer that Faramir brings from Aragorn. He said that he would give you money for anyone who wishes to become a rancher. It can be paid back, if you wish, at a later date, by giving Gondor more horses in return for the loan".

Legolas said that he also would send some elves from Ithilorien to come and assist with the rebuilding that needed to be done in Rohan. Gimli said that he would help in any way he could, and wished that he could do more, but that the dwarf population had been in decline for hundreds of years, and showed no sign of ever recovering.

When they had been in Edoras for a few days, Legolas discovered that Lindaril had returned from Minas Tirith. He met with her on the balcony outside of the room in which she was staying. He wanted to talk to her and to enquire about her journey to Minas Tirith and to ensure that Elspeth and Enna had been taken to the Houses of Healing, and were safe. As he walked toward Lindaril, he saw her singing to a little bird that was perched on a branch of a tree overhanging her balcony. He was startled to see the bird suddenly drop to the floor as Lindaril sang something to it. She stooped to pick up the little creature, and then noticed Legolas approaching.

"Oh, Legolas, look at this", she said. "It is a Cheeralee. It is an ambitious little bird. It tries to do what it cannot. It tries to make its nest as big as an eagle's, but it does not need such a big one, so most of its nestlings die of the cold and the lack of closeness to their mother. It tries to eat large nuts that it cannot break open, when it should be eating small seeds, but many of the birds starve rather than capitulate. It is never satisfied with what it can do, and is always frustrated by its limitations. These little birds are extremely rare. That I have found one here is a wonder. I think it must be some sort of omen".

Legolas stared at her. "If it is rare, you should have let it live. Why have you killed it?" he asked in horror.

She laughed at him. "Oh, no, it is not dead. Look here". Then she sang to it.

"Cheeralee, O Cheeralee  
Little bird that wants to be  
In control of all it sees  
I decide to set you free  
Fly, and please remember me."

The little bird then awoke and flew away. Lindaril turned and smiled at Legolas. He thought her actions to be strange and she gave him a feeling of uneasiness that he could not shake off. 

"Finally, we have a chance to talk, you and I", said Lindaril. "I had wished to make you aware of something very important about myself, but have not yet had the opportunity to speak to you at length".

"I do not mind talking with you", Legolas replied. "But never again can there be anything more than a formal acquaintanceship between us".

"Oh, do not worry, Legolas", she retorted. "I will admit when I chance to make a horrible mistake of the sort that I have made, and horrible it was indeed!"

"If that is all you have to say, then I must end this conversation now", said Legolas. He turned and started to leave the room.

Lindaril willed herself to control her temper, and said tersely, "We have strayed from the subject that I wished to discuss. Soon, I will be leaving for the Grey Havens, as I have told you, and I know that you and Gimli will be leaving for your own destination. Because I may never see you again, there is something I wish to tell you now about myself, and - and - my family", she said.

"Why would that be of any concern to me?" he asked.

Lindaril's eyes flashed with anger, but she continued, "It may be worth it some day for you to know that I am a direct descendant of the House of Feanor of the Noldorin elves", she said.

"No!" cried Legolas, quite unnerved. "It is not possible! Do not speak of him lest you bring the curse of his house down on our heads! I was not aware that any of his seven sons had any children that have survived still! How is it possible that any descendants of that accursed line still exist? Is it Maglor? Is Maglor your father?"

"Listen to me, Legolas", said Lindaril, with a look that stopped Legolas stone cold. He saw in the glare of her eyes that she spoke the truth and that her words held great portent. He dropped to his knees.

"O, Elbereth!" he cried. "Help us! Is it not to be over, finally? Will there never be any rest for the First-born?"

Lindaril's dark eyes shone in that moment of revelation, and it was as if white-hot sparks flew from them. In a ringing voice, she spoke.

"Feanor's son Celegorm had a child by an elf-maiden whom he met somewhere in Beleriand - near Doriath I was told", she said. "He was never aware of that child's existence. No one knew of this child, save her own mother. She was conceived during the confusion and madness that took place after the death of King Thingol. Through Celegorm who was my grandfather, I have descended, the last of my people save for Maglor, whose whereabouts remain unknown to me. Now, I am about to leave Middle-earth forever, so do not worry about me, Legolas. I will be gone, and will be taking my family's terrible legacy of misfortune with me, and there will no longer be any ancient curses from the past to worry you here".

Lindaril then swept away, leaving Legolas kneeling on the floor. He was left with a feeling of great discomfort, and was relieved that she would be departing Middle-earth and taking her family's secrets and curses away with her.

8


	10. Chapter 10

10

The Travels of the Hobbits

The Silmarillion: P. 31: Of Aule and Yavanna: " -- and he made first the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves in a hall under the mountains in Middle-earth."

P. 32: "They shall sleep now in the darkness under stone, and shall not come forth until the Firstborn have awakened upon Earth."

Bilbo and Frodo had been on their map-making expedition in the lands of Valinor for about a fortnight when Frodo noticed something in the sky. "That is odd", he remarked, "I never noticed it before. Look, Bilbo".

Bilbo looked up to where Frodo was pointing and saw a collection of dark spots in the clear blueness of the Valinorian sky. The sky of Valinor was much the same as the sky of Middle-earth, except that it was usually clearer, and the sun shone with a perpetual golden glow, rather than a white-hot glow. The light it cast was rather like the Middle-earth light of a late summer afternoon. It was more muted and softer than the blaze of a noon sun, and was very soothing to the eyes and the spirit. The two hobbits, who now stood almost as tall and slim as two elves, stood staring up at the dark spots. They looked to be not much more than a haze in the sky, almost a wispy cloud, albeit dark, but the strange thing was that the sky over Valinor never had any dark clouds in it.

"I don't know what it is, Frodo", said Bilbo, "but it is probably nothing to worry about. We have not been in the Undying Lands for very long so we do not know what is usual or unusual in this place. When we get back to Lake Lorellin, we will ask Este, and she should be able to tell us what it is, if it is anything to worry about".

"I suppose you are right, as usual, Bilbo", said Frodo.

The hobbits continued on their way. They were intending to walk along the eastern coastline so that Bilbo could measure every little inlet and rock face that they came to. It was very slow going. When they left the Isle of Este they decided to walk eastward across the lands to the Woods of Orome. Bilbo busied himself with his instruments, making calculations and plotting lines on his papers. They were planning to eventually head northward along the eastern coastline toward Mt. Taniquetil, where they hoped to stop for a while, and visit with Gandalf.

Frodo and Bilbo entered the region where the pastures of Yavanna began to roll out before them, and they knew that they had arrived in an enchanted place. Yavanna the Fruitful was the spouse of Aule, the Master of Smiths and the Maker of Mountains. His mansion stood in the Woods of Orome, which lay beyond Yavanna's pastures in central Valinor.

While all of Valinor was beautiful, the lands watched over and tended by Yavanna were the most fair of all. Her pastures, as they unfolded over the land for miles ahead, provided a vista of colors which rolled one into the next in perfect harmony with each other. There were greens ranging from dark olive to the palest lime, that contained the trees for which that color was named. Green rolled into yellow, from lemon to the golden hues of the mallorn. Yellow rolled into peach, then orange, and then the reds of apple to cherry. As the pastures unfolded toward the Woods where Aule dwelt, the colors became of a darker hue. There was no darkness such as there was in Mirkwood or Mordor on Middle-earth. The dark colors of Valinor served to imbue the landscape with some calming contrasts and interesting textures. They were of a soft darkness, never meant to threaten or overpower anyone.

Aule's woods were calm and fragrant, its trees each a perfect specimen of its kind. They lived in harmony with each other, and allowed visitors to pass among them without feeling any fear. The ground under the trees was of soft green moss, beautifully soothing to the feet. Here and there were benches made of soft wood bent into curved shapes to fit the body, where one could sit or lie and just gaze upon the woods and take in the sight and the scent of the trees. Each bench was placed so that it afforded an exquisite view of the landscapes the woods had to offer. Frodo and Bilbo passed quite a few elven painters on their travels, who had stopped in order to interpret the scenery before them. Other elves roamed freely through the Woods, composing poetry and songs as they walked. Presently, the trees gave way gradually to a more open space and the hobbits could see a path begin between two Yavannamire trees, which hovered over it protectively, and seemed to beckon travelers toward it with their fragrant, nodding heads.

Bilbo and Frodo stepped onto the path and immediately felt it pull them forward in a magical way, which reminded Frodo of the path along the Withywindle River in the Old Forest of the Shire, and how it had led the hobbits into danger. However, those were malevolent times back on Middle-earth, and Frodo could sense the difference between the evil trees of the Old Forest and the benevolent trees of Valinor.

He and Bilbo allowed themselves to be led along the magical path, and it took them eventually to a magnificent mansion made of stone. This was a vast dwelling, formed of blocks of granite of many hues of silver and grey with threads of pink, gold and green running through its stone face. The building was square, and stood four stories high, with turrets on its roof, and flags flying from them, all embossed with the letter "A", in gold. There were gold embellishments studded all over it, and golden statues all around the perimeter.

As Frodo and Bilbo stood staring at the mansion in amazement, the front doors opened with a deep, soft sound, not the clang of iron, but with a resonance that Frodo had never before heard. He saw that the two huge front doors were made of what looked to be solid gold. He did not know what could have opened them, as they would have been of too tremendous a weight, and impossible for any human being or even a strong elf, to push open by themselves. He could not believe his eyes at first, but then his gaze was diverted from the doors by the sight of a very large man who came bursting through them. He was of a huge size. Frodo thought that he must have been at least ten feet tall, and reminded him quite a bit of Tom Bombadil. His beard, his girth, his jolly appearance and his bright clothing all contributed to this impression.

"Welcome, my visitors", said the big man. "I am Aule, Master of Smiths. Welcome to my home", he boomed, and bade them come inside. Frodo understood then that this large man was one of the Valar. The hobbits entered and were awestruck by the sight of the interior of Aule's home. The walls and floor were of polished marble in warm brown and rosy tones. Along the walls were many golden statues. As Frodo walked past them he noticed that they seemed to be of dwarves, but very ancient dwarves of regal stature and bearing, adorned with many jewels and weaponry of precious metals.

The house seemed empty to Frodo, despite its many fine ornaments. There was very little furniture in the main hall and in the library beyond. However, the library did not seem to house many books, although the walls of polished stone were set with many alcoves in which shelves were set. Upon those shelves sat many unusual jewels in place of books. There were a few books about, but not as many as there were in Este's library, which was full of reading material. Some of the jewels were cut and polished, and were set upon holders of marble, iron or glass. Others were in their natural crystalline state, but each was of unique shape and color.

Aule led them through many rooms, all quite sparsely furnished, but spacious, with ceilings at least twelve feet high. Presently, they came to a room, which Frodo recognized as the kitchen, but what a kitchen it was! It had walls and floor of warm, golden-hued wood, and soft, woven rugs spread on the floor to walk upon. There were three great tables, made from fallen Yavannamire trees, and polished to a glossy sheen. Yavanna would never have permitted Aule to cut down living trees, but he was welcome to use dead ones. These were laden with many foodstuffs. There were bowls of fruit set upon them, and the hobbits saw breads, cheeses and cakes galore.

"Sit down, please, and help yourselves, if you are hungry", offered Aule, in a loud, rich, but pleasant voice. "If you wish, I will have some cold meats brought for you to sample as well, and some ale or wine, whichever you prefer".

"Thank you, My Lord Aule", said Frodo. "You are most kind to welcome us to your home in this way. We will not say no to some ale, as we are very thirsty". He glanced at Bilbo, who nodded in agreement.

"We would, indeed, very much like to take you up on your offer to sample some cold meats, as well", Bilbo stated rather passionately.

"Then I shall have some brought to you right away", replied Aule, and clapped his hands. The sound resonated loudly throughout the room. Some elves appeared, carrying trays of different kinds of meat: some had cold pork, chicken and roast beef carved from the bone; but what the hobbits craved most was the salt pork that was also on the tray. The elves brought in a dish steaming with hot roasted potatoes and mushrooms that smelled like bliss, to which the hobbits helped themselves with glee. A pitcher of ale was brought in and set down before them, and a couple of sparkling clean pewter tankards. The hobbits set to their meal with relish. Aule sat down at a separate table so as not to crowd them with his tremendous size.

"Where will you be off to next, my friends?" he enquired.

In between bites of the delicious food, the hobbits told him of their map-making expedition, which would eventually take them over every inch of the coastline of the Undying Lands.

"We are most interested in hearing peoples' stories as well, about the places in which they live", said Frodo. "We would like to include anecdotes with our maps, as we go along, and eventually put both stories and maps together in a book about these lands".

"That is an admirable endeavor", said Aule. "As for anecdotes, oh, I believe I can give you some wonderful anecdotes. Yes, indeed!"

"If you don't mind my asking, on our way in to your halls I could not help but notice that your entrance was filled with marvelous gold statues that seem to be of dwarves", said Bilbo. "I sensed that there must be a story to go along with them. I am rather partial to dwarves, and I must admit that those statues look to be of an ancient variety of dwarf of which I would be most interested in hearing more".

"Would you, now?" asked Aule, beaming at Bilbo, as if he were very pleased to hear that Bilbo was partial to dwarves. "Although it was meant to be kept secret, I shall tell you the true story of how dwarves came into being. However, Master Bilbo, and you too, Master Frodo, you must promise me that you will never reveal the secret to another soul".

"We promise", replied the hobbits in unison.

"As it happened", said Aule, mysteriously, "I made them".

"YOU made them?" Bilbo asked, astonished. Frodo stopped eating for a moment to stare in wonder at the huge Vala sitting in front of him.

"I certainly did", said Aule, "from earth and stone. Male and female alike. However, in doing so, I did something very wrong. The power had not been given to me to create life, and yet I had done just that. In fact, it turned out that I had made the dwarves and brought them to life BEFORE the elves of Eru's creation were brought to life, and it was the plan of Eru that the elves were to be the first-born. Therefore, I had committed a sinful act, which was deemed to be an act of selfishness and of illusions of my own grandeur, and I was asked to destroy the dwarves of my creation. I almost smashed them to bits then, with a big hammer, although I did not wish to, and in my heart I grieved for them because I had grown to love them. Then, Eru could see that I loved the dwarves dearly, and that I had created them not in order to usurp his powers, or to put myself forward, but simply to be able to have someone to whom to show the skills of smithying. I dearly wished for there to be other creatures in the world with whom I could share my love of mining and metalworking, and so I created the dwarves with which to share this love". Aule stopped for a moment and wiped his eyes, having become emotional at the memory of the dwarves' creation, and of their near destruction.

Bilbo and Frodo both stopped eating while they listened to his story and looked at Aule in astonishment.

"As it turned out, Eru forgave me then, and had the dwarves sent into a long sleep by Yavanna, my wife, who possesses powers of sleep-making, and did not allow them to awaken until the elves had come into the world. Thus the elves could be the First-born as Eru had wished. Now, I have told you the story", said Aule, "and, as you promised, you must not tell anyone the truth of the matter. The elves must never find out that the dwarves came into being before them".

"We promise, My Lord Aule", said Bilbo, who felt quite privileged that Aule had told him this tale. The full realization of the extent of Aule's power, the power of the Valar, to create life and to take it away, came upon Bilbo in that moment, and he was afraid of it, such that he knew he would never go back on his promise never to tell.

"And promise me that you will never put it in your book", said Aule, just in case anyone ever reads it".

"We promise that we won't", said Frodo, and he meant it, too. Although Aule had been very kind to them, he frightened Frodo nevertheless because of his talk of destroying dwarves with a hammer.

"I could tell you plenty of other stories, which you can use in your book", said Aule.

"That is most kind of you", said Bilbo. "May I ask you now, are the statues in your hall of those first dwarves that you created?"

"Yes, Master Bilbo, you have guessed correctly", said Aule.

"Where are these dwarves now?" asked Bilbo, "if you don't mind my asking".

"Well, my friend, Bilbo, they died", Aule replied. "The dwarves were not made to be immortal, as were the elves. Their bodies are strong and they were made to endure and live long lives, but they cannot live forever".

"Are no dwarves permitted to come to the Undying Lands, then?" asked Frodo.

"They never have been permitted before", replied Aule. "But as far as I know, no hobbits have ever been allowed to come here either".

The hobbits could not disagree with this statement. They both reflected upon the privilege awarded them, in that they were permitted to be the first, and possibly, only hobbits ever to sail on a White Ship to Valinor. They, and Samwise Gamgee, who had been a Ring-bearer as well, and therefore would be permitted to come later on, after he had fulfilled his destiny on Middle-earth.

"Now tell me", said Aule, breaking into their thoughts, "to where were you planning to travel next in these lands?"

"We thought we would first go northward, and then make our way around the western coastline, and eventually end up at Mt. Hyarmentir in the south".

"Hmm", said Aule, "Mt. Hyarmentir, is it? Let me then tell you the ancient story of Melkor and Feanor, and the theft of the jewels, and of the great spider called Ungoliant".

Frodo gulped. "G - great spider?" His hand flew up to his neck in a spontaneous gesture of protectiveness. He shuddered at the memory of his stinging by Shelob, the great spider of Middle-earth, whose poisoning had almost caused his death.

"Yes, the great spider. Do you not like spiders?" asked Aule.

"No, I certainly do not", said Frodo, "but it is all right. Please go ahead and tell us the story, and do not mind any reaction I may have to the mention of great spiders".

Aule then proceeded to tell the hobbits of how the Vala Melkor, as Morgoth was then named, had deceived the elven prince Feanor and had turned him against the Gods, and of how Feanor had subsequently spurned Morgoth's advances of friendship, seeing through his lies, and recognizing in him the lust for the Silmarils, Feanor's precious jewels of his own making. Morgoth then had retreated to his fortress of Angband after being spurned by Feanor, and had convinced Ungoliant, the great spider, to follow him to the southern Pelori mountain range, to the pinnacle of Mt. Hyarmentir, from which they could see across all of the lands of Valinor to its northernmost edge. Then, during a festival which Manwe held in Taniquetil, to which Feanor was commanded to attend, Morgoth and Ungoliant swept down from the mountain, and across the fields of Valinor, and destroyed the Trees of Light. They then fled, covered in a cloud of darkness, to Feanor's home, the fortress of Formenos, and there Morgoth murdered Finwe, Feanor's beloved father, and stole the Silmarils.

"At this point, I will stop", said Aule, "as it is getting very late. You will, no doubt, wish to rest now".

The hobbits were enthralled by the story of Feanor and the jewels, but they were becoming extremely tired. Bilbo's head was beginning to nod in spite of his desire to hear more of the exciting story.

"Come, then", said Aule, "and I will take you to a bedroom where you can sleep".

The room was very comfortable and their beds were soft and inviting, and the hobbits fell asleep right away. They did not wake until the morning sunshine streamed through their window. Frodo arose first, and found his way downstairs to the kitchen. He found Aule sitting there, as he had been the night before. When Aule saw Frodo, he laughed.

"Are you hungry, young Master Frodo?" he asked.

"Yes", said Frodo, "for both food and stories, if you don't mind".

"I could tell you another story", said Aule, "or you could find out from others when you reach those places in your travels where great or interesting events have taken place. Perhaps that is the best way to hear stories. Then you can imagine the events unfolding before your eyes as you stand in the places where they actually occurred. When you reach Mt. Hyarmentir at the end of your journey, be sure to climb to the top of the peak. Then, when you look down upon the lands below you, remember the story of Morgoth and Ungoliant, as they stood upon that exact spot".

Frodo swallowed hard. "Did you know Morgoth personally?" he asked.

Aule became very serious for a moment. "Yes, I did know him once, of course when his name was Melkor", he said solemnly. "Although none of us really knew him, if you understand me, not even Manwe, who was his twin. Evil in people is difficult to see by those close to them, especially if the close relation cannot comprehend evil. It is a simpler thing to believe that such a person has quirks or certain eccentricities, and therefore dismiss their dark ways as such".

Frodo shivered, in spite of the warmth of the room. "I think you are right about the best way to hear stories", he said, changing the subject. "I am looking forward to visiting the places where they occurred, and letting each tale unfold as we travel through Valinor".

Bilbo came downstairs then, and joined them in the kitchen. After a hearty breakfast, the hobbits decided that they should take their leave of Aule and continue with their expedition. Aule had entertained them so well, that Bilbo and Frodo were somewhat reluctant to leave, in spite of the fact that they looked forward to going on with their journey and perhaps experiencing some exciting new adventures. Bilbo promised that once his mapping was finished, then he would begin writing a book based on the tales he heard. He promised Aule that nothing would be told of the origin of the dwarves.

The hobbits said their goodbyes to Aule and left his woods, and continued along to the coast. They traveled toward Eldamar, and to the Bay of Eldamar, where they had first arrived in the Undying Lands.

"I wonder if we should go to visit Sindor and Sandor on Tol Eressea while we are here?" mused Frodo. "I suppose that we should do so, since we do not know when we will come back this way again".

"We will see how we feel when we get there", Bilbo replied. He was busy making some calculations. "I had wanted to walk all the way around the Bay of Eldamar anyway, so that I could measure it and then calculate the size of Tol Eressea. Once we reach the Pass of Light on the Bay, we should be about one-fifth of the way around the lands, by my calculations".

Frodo dropped down on the grass and lay there, stretching and yawning. "I am feeling a little tired and quite a bit hungry", he said. "Do you think we could stop for awhile?"

Bilbo nodded. "We have all the time in the world. Of course, let us have something to eat, and we can relax and rest our feet for a bit".

The two hobbits ate, and drank, and smoked, and then ate some more, drank some more and smoked some more. Presently, they fell asleep on the grass. When he awoke, Frodo shook his head, looked at the still sleeping Bilbo, and laughed.

"At this rate, we will never be finished this expedition", he thought. He watched Bilbo sleeping for a while, and noticed how much younger his uncle now looked, thanks to the ministrations of Este. His hair was no longer white, but was brown like Frodo's, although a little lighter in color. Frodo then looked up at the sky, and noticed again the dark haze floating over the northwestern edge of Valinor.

Eventually, the hobbits continued on their way, stopping whenever they felt the need to rest and to eat. They were in a delightful, beautiful country, as a paradise should be, with no time-keeping to concern them, no one to pressure them, and nothing unpleasant occurring to worry them. Occasionally, they would meet elves wandering about on their own missions, and would stop and visit with them for a while. The elves would bring out delicious food and drink, and they would sit and talk, sometimes even through the night. Sometimes they would bring out little candles and stick them in the ground so that they could see each other by the soft glow of the candlelight while they were sharing stories.

Everywhere in these lands there were resting places to be discovered every mile or so, sometimes nestled within a glen, or beside a small pond, or within a forest glade. In these resting places there were benches upon which to sit, with large, wooden, lidded boxes placed near them, full of wonderful things. The boxes were never locked, and in them one would find delicious food such as fruits, bread and cheeses. There were also bottles of wine, cordials of different kinds, and kegs of ale. There were barrels of pipe weed, and even fresh pipes. Also in the boxes could be found fresh blankets, candles, and books to read, mostly books containing beautiful pictures, which depicted grand events of the past. Frodo marveled at how the boxes' contents were never depleted, but were always full whenever one was opened, and the food inside was always fresh. Everyone whom they met seemed happy to sit down with the hobbits and tell them great stories of adventures that they themselves had experienced. Frodo thought that he would never get tired of living this way, which was to travel peacefully, in calm, tranquil lands where everything was laid out ahead for the traveler when he or she wished to stop and rest.

Presently, the two hobbits arrived in Eldamar, and on their way around the Bay, they managed to visit with Sindor and Sandor on Tol Eressea. The two fun-loving elves took full advantage of the hobbits' renewed youth and stamina, and took them on many new adventures, playing games, sailing, swimming, and mostly regaling them with amusing stories. Bilbo and Frodo had not laughed so much since they had left their friends, Merry, Sam and Pippin behind in the Shire.

Once they had managed to escape finally from Sindor and Sandor, the hobbits continued on to Alqualonde, where they stopped once again. They had visited the Swan Havens briefly with Gandalf when they had first arrived in the Undying Lands, but they now wished to spend more time there. While they were in Alqualonde, they met a friendly elf named Hithar, which meant "one who lives along the mist". He was one of the Teleri elves, and was of a great age, although his appearance was of a man of about forty. He reminded Bilbo somewhat of Elrond, but with fair, rather than dark, hair. He was very outgoing, and had a great sense of humor. The main thing about him was his sense of warmth and openness, qualities that Elrond had possessed as well. The hobbits took to him immediately, and while they stayed in Alqualonde, Hithar, Bilbo and Frodo became great friends.

One day, Hithar sat outside with them, where they watched the great ships in the likenesses of swans come and go from the port. Bilbo was smoking his pipe, and it suddenly occurred to him to ask Hithar where the idea of making these ships first came from. When he asked this question, Hithar became uncharacteristically quiet, and a look of sadness passed over his fair elvish face. He ran a hand through his long, whitish-blond hair.

"Do you know the story of Feanor and the kinslaying?" he asked.

"No", said Bilbo. "We have been told a terrible story about this Feanor, but we have never heard of a kinslaying. It sounds ominous indeed".

"Well, do not worry, Master Bilbo", said Hithar. "It is an old story of an ancient time passed and gone, and something that we should never have to worry about occurring again. Let me tell you about it. I shall try to be as brief as possible, because the story is very long indeed. Many years ago, the Telerin Elves chose to dwell here, when these lands lay close to those of Middle-earth. They were separated only by a passage of ice called the "Grinding Ice", or the "Helcaraxe". It was called this because the ice was not smooth and flat, and easy to traverse, but was composed of great broken pieces, floes and icebergs, all bumping and grinding together, making crossing difficult to do, if not impossible.

The Telerin elves had built great, beautiful white ships with the aid of Ulmo, the God of Waters, and his Maia servant, Osse. One fell day, Feanor came in search of Morgoth, who had murdered his father, Finwe, and Feanor had been overcome with grief by the slaying, and was possessed by the flame of evil revenge. He demanded that the Teleri give him the white ships so that he could sail around the Helcaraxe to Middle-earth. When the Teleri refused to give Feanor their ships, he and his followers slew many of our ancestors. It was a terrible act, and was the very first killing of an elf by another elf.

Feanor's jewels, the three Silmarils, which he had made with his own hands, had been stolen by Morgoth after he had killed Finwe, and thus Feanor swore a terrible oath upon these evil acts. His mind had been poisoned. He declared that the Silmarils could be possessed only by a member of his own house, and that a curse would be placed upon anyone else who dared to claim them. After the kinslaying, the Teleri and the Noldor, Feanor's clan, became enemies. However, many years later, we forgave the Noldor, after Feanor and all of his kin were dead and the elves had suffered enough agonies, in war after war. The world had changed. All of the lands of Beleriand on the west coast of Middle-earth had been washed into the sea, and the exiles had few places in which to go, and so we took pity on them, and let those who wished to, come back to Valinor".

"What happened to the Silmarils?" asked Bilbo.

"Ah, that is a very long story, indeed", replied Hithar. "I cannot do it justice now, as I am trying to be brief, but I will try to give you the gist of it. A mortal man named Beren had gone to Angband and managed to steal back one of the jewels from Morgoth. Never mind how for now, as the tale is too long to tell at one sitting. However, once he had taken possession of the jewel, Beren gave it to Thingol, King of the Elves of Gondolin, and the father of Luthien Tinuviel, an elf-maiden whom Beren loved and wished to marry".

"Oh, yes, I know the story of Beren and Luthien", said Bilbo.

"So do I", remarked Frodo. "Aragorn told it to us on our journey to Rivendell with the Ring".

"That is a relief", said Hithar, "as that will save me a lot of time in the retelling of this history. To return then, Morgoth still retained the two other Silmarils that he had stolen. Then, during a Great War called the War of Wrath, the other Valar flew into Morgoth's stronghold of Angband, and wrested the Silmarils from him. They ended up in the possession of the two remaining sons of Feanor, named Maedhros and Maglor, who, again, had slain other people in order to come by the jewels. I have forgotten to mention that the Silmarils were very unusual jewels. In them shone a light like a fire, which made it impossible for anyone to hold the jewels without burning their hands.

Meanwhile, the third Silmaril had been set into a necklace that Thingol had commissioned to be made for him by the dwarves of Nogrod. These dwarves slew Thingol over some dispute, and took the necklace. The dwarves were then slain during the War of Wrath, and that Silmaril eventually passed to Dior, who was the son of Beren and Luthien. Dior was slain while he tried to escape, and the Silmaril passed then to his daughter, Elwing, who is still living, and is the wife of Earendil the Mariner. Elwing, thinking that Earendil was dead, because he had tried to sail to Valinor, and she mistakenly thought that he had died in so doing, then threw herself into the sea out of grief for her loss of him. Ulmo, the God of Waters, saved Elwing, and she and Earendil were reunited by the Valar, who had much sorrow for the tragedies that had occurred during this dreadful time in our history.

The Valar sent Earendil and Elwing up into the sky in a ship called Vingilot, and Earendil wears the Silmaril upon his brow, where it shines as our brightest star, as he sails forever in the heavens.

However, the Silmaril possessed by Maedhros burned his hand so badly that he could no longer stand the torment, and he killed himself by throwing himself into a fiery chasm in the earth. His brother, Maglor, was also tormented by his jewel, and cast it into the sea and then wandered away to unknown lands. Thus, this story ends as all of the Silmarils were lost: one to the skies, one to the sea, and one to the bowels of the earth. We shall likely never see any of them again".

Frodo breathed deeply. Many questions burned in his mind. He understood now what Elrond had told him of his parents, Elwing and Earendil. He remembered the vial of the light of Earendil, which had been given to him by Galadriel, to be used to light his way in the dark places of the world.

"It has been said that Feanor had made the Silmarils himself, by hand, is that not so?" he asked.

"Yes, that is so", replied Hithar.

"Then why could more of them not be made?" he asked. "They could then be given to those who desire them, and there would be no need for stealing and killing".

"Ah", said Hithar, "that would be too simple a solution, would it not? First, those jewels seem to carry a terrible curse, even beyond what Feanor had placed upon them. Second, Feanor had said that he would never part with the formula for making the Silmarils, and that formula has gone with him to his death, as we believe", said Hithar.

"So he has died, then?" asked Frodo.

"Why, yes, he was slain by a Balrog, almost as soon as he had reached the shores of Middle-earth after crossing the Grinding Ice", replied Hithar.

"Since he was an immortal elf, would his spirit not be resting now in the Halls of Mandos?" asked Bilbo, who knew of such things.

"Yes, Feanor's spirit resides in the Halls of Mandos, but there it must stay until the Day of Judgment", said Hithar. "Then it will be decided what is to become of it".

Frodo and Bilbo had been enthralled by Hithar's story. Frodo felt that once he and Bilbo reached the Halls of Mandos at the end of their expedition, he would love to hear more about Feanor, as he was now burning with the desire to discover more about this fearsome elf of ancient times, who had lived in an age of hideous creatures, terrible destruction and dramatic acts of passion and high emotions. He let out a deep breath. "How the world has changed", he sighed.

Eventually, the hobbits said their goodbyes to Hithar, and took up traveling once again. They gradually made their way along an east road toward Mt. Taniquetil. They passed through the streets of Tirion, the great elven city, stopping often to chat with the elves, and finally they came to the green hill of Tuna, near the mansion of Manwe upon Mt. Taniquetil.

The hobbits did not care for heights, but they slowly made their way toward the mansion on the mountain-peak with the sure-footedness of their kind. There, they were reunited with Gandalf, who was most pleased to see them again.

"You certainly took your time in getting here", he admonished them.

"We did not think that time mattered any more", said Bilbo.

Gandalf laughed. "Come, my friends", he said. "I shall take you on a little tour of the palace, and then I shall introduce you to my Lord and Master, Manwe, King of the Valar".

Frodo was most impressed. "I should like to freshen up a little first", he replied. Gandalf then took the hobbits to a part of the palace that contained some elegant guest rooms, where they were reunited with Elrond, who was staying there as well.

"Master Elrond, I am delighted to see you again", said Bilbo. "I have had a most entertaining adventure this time. Let me tell you about it once we have made ourselves comfortable".

17


	11. Chapter 11

11

Return to Moria

The Lord of the Rings (Alan Lee Illustrated Ed.): P. 334: The Fellowship of the Ring: A Journey in the Dark: (excerpt from Gimli's poem): "The world is grey, the mountains old, The forge's fire is ashen-cold; No harp is wrung, no hammer falls: The darkness dwells in Durin's halls; The shadow lies upon his tomb, In Moria, in Khazad-dum."

Legolas and Gimli prepared to leave Edoras. They said farewell to Eomer, Eowyn and Faramir, and departed to the stables to get their horses. Lindaril had left a few hours before them for the Grey Havens. The leave-taking had been emotional on her side and Legolas had found it draining. He was relieved that she was going away, but did not wish to show any emotion to her lest she thought he cared or even that he did not. He was looking forward to a good ride across the Rohan countryside, and some fresh, invigorating air to clear his senses.

The two companions rode past the Hornburg, where they had helped to fight a great battle against Saruman's Uruk-hai warriors, and where Gimli had most recently made his home, in the Glittering Caves of Helm's Deep. Saruman's old realm of Isengard stood not far away, although it was now a wreck of broken buildings and ruined forestlands.

They rode through the Westfold, where they and Aragorn had long ago chased a band of Uruk-hai who had slain Boromir, one of the Fellowship of the Ring. The Uruk-hai had captured Merry and Pippin, two of the hobbit members of the Fellowship. They passed through the Gap of Rohan, which lay between Fangorn Forest and the southern tip of the Misty Mountains. Here they stopped to rest. Memories came flooding back to them of Fangorn, an ancient and mysterious forest. It was a dynamic presence at the foot of the Misty Mountains, and the mountains themsElves harbored ancient secrets, their peaks hidden in the shroud-like mist from which they took their name. The two friends sat very quietly, taking in the magnificence of their surroundings. They sat back-to-back. Legolas was facing the forest, his keen eyes penetrating its darkness. He let its energy wash over him and help him renew his strength and spirit. Gimli sat facing the mountains, and reflected upon ancient times when dwarves were masters of this realm. They had created breathtakingly majestic halls and had wrought great works of art and architecture out of metal and stone.

The two friends had come this way before, on their travels after the war was over when they had visited Fangorn at Legolas's request. However, that had been some years before, and they had promised each other that they would, from time to time, travel to a place of the other's choosing so that they could better understand each other's culture.

"Gimli?" The soft sound of Legolas's voice broke the silence. "Tell me again why you decided to leave the Glittering Caves. I remember that you told me years ago what a marvel you found them to be and that you wanted to weep when you had to leave them".

"Like any love, which at first sight seems perfect, the brightness fades with time. With perfection, nothing is required to be done. Yet dwarves such as I crave work, and cannot sit idle for long. I told you then that the caverns of Helm's Deep would never be mined for their riches, and pristine they will always stay. Therefore, I wish to move on, and go back to Moria, at least for a visit. I desire to look upon a ruin, and muse over its past glories. Who knows? Perhaps those mines would be an interesting relic to preserve as a museum of sorts, or some such other curiosity".

"I would be surprised if Eomer did not decide to begin mining the riches of the Glittering Caves despite what you say", said Legolas. "His country could use the wealth that is doubtless hidden there".

"Oh, no", said Gimli. "Those caves are sacred, and will never be mined".

"You seem to be sure enough about that, Gimli", replied Legolas. "I do believe you, but cannot stop myself from feeling regret when I hear your words, and think of the lost opportunity for this poor country".

"Then you do not understand what sacred places mean to people", said Gimli, "since you are of a wandering folk, and do not tie yourself down to material things".

"I find it marvelous that you have finally come to realize this", replied Legolas. "The entire world is sacred to us."

It was odd to them that while in the open space of the Gap of Rohan, where the sky was blue and clear, and the air fresh to breathe, they did not see another living soul. The area was once overrun with foul orcs patrolling it. Now the orcs had vanished, but no other people had yet taken up their place and made this region their home, in spite of the fact that the land in this area was lovely. In the deep, dark places of Fangorn there were Ents still making their rounds and protecting the trees. Deep within the Misty Mountains there was also silent, stealthy activity taking place, but it was as yet unknown to any other living person.

The friends resumed their journey, and rode toward the Gates of Moria. Legolas looked up at the mountain peaks, shrouded in mist, through which he could only partially see.

"Gimli, would you like to climb with me to the top of Zirak-zigil?" he asked.

"What? Why would I want to do such a ridiculous thing?" asked Gimli, dumfounded. "I would rather cut off my right hand!"

"It is a place of great spiritual power", said Legolas. "I was thinking that it would be interesting to go up to the top and see if we could find the remains of the Balrog that Gandalf slew there. It could be a great adventure".

"Go ahead", said Gimli, "If you wish, you may go up there by yourself! I will just stay under the mountain, where it is safe!"

Legolas looked at Gimli and he was quite perplexed. "Do you not wish to visit the place where this monumental event occurred? I feel that if we absorb the spiritual energy that is on the mountain, it will protect us from future harm. I feel this very strongly".

"Legolas", said Gimli gravely. "I do not know what has happened to your senses, but I feel strongly that perhaps a good whack of my axe's blunt end to your skull may knock some sense back into it! I tell you for the last time, I will not climb up a mountain ever again! Mountains were made for tunneling under, not for climbing! Now, come! Let us continue into the Mines of Moria! You will feel much better ince we are inside, my friend!"

With a sigh of regret, Legolas turned Arod toward the West Gate, and he and Gimli followed the Sirannon, the stream that flowed from the foot of the cliffs to where the doors of Moria lay. It was running freely once more, and the dark lake that had filled the shallow basin and in which had dwelt the Watcher in the Water, was now dried up. When they arrived at the Gates of Moria, night was beginning to fall. A password was no longer needed to open the Doors. On them were still inscribed the emblems of Durin and the Tree of the High Elves. On them, also, wrought in Ithildin, the ancient metal used by the Dwarves in Durin's time, was the Star of the House of Feanor. Legolas inwardly shuddered as they rode past the Doors. The star stood out brightly in the moonlight, almost winking at them. They led the horses past the Stair Falls, which now tumbled freely over the cliffs. They saw only a pile of rubble where the two hundred steps had been. The steps were broken now, and a steep, upward slope, covered with rubble, replaced them.

"I have many negative memories of this place", Legolas remarked, as the horses climbed up into the first hall. "I hope it will not be difficult to shake them off as we pass through".

"Do not worry", said Gimli. "What could happen to us now? The orcs are all dead. There is no more of Sauron's or Saruman's evil about to harm us. It will be quite safe in here".

They lit torches in order to see their way through the intricate passages of Moria. They walked along the corridors, marveling at the huge structures that still stood, showing off the skilled craftsmanship of the dwarves who built them. There were also many piles of rubble about, grim reminders of the great evil that had once dwelt in this place.

The horses followed them as they walked through the hallways, which were more like great wide roads. The orcs had occupied these roadways in the past, but they were now open to the travelers. It would have taken about four days to travel through Moria on foot, but on the horses, they could go faster and so they remounted. As they traveled, they stopped a few times to rest and to marvel at the deep chasms where mithril and other precious metals and gems were once mined. The mines had been empty for some time of all the dwarf miners and craftsmen who had once thrived there. There was now a palpable loneliness in this once great kingdom. The silence was overwhelmingly forlorn, even to fearless warriors such as Legolas and Gimli.

When they reached the large archway with three passageways opening off of it, they stopped and dismounted. There had been so much destruction in this dwarf city to make traveling through it somewhat confusing, that they thought they should stop to plan out their route. There were seven levels of hallways in Moria, just as there were seven levels to the city of Minas Tirith, in Gondor. Moria, however, had been much damaged by many battles within its halls, and by evil creatures that had lived there once but had now disappeared. They were sitting, Legolas thinking quietly and Gimli smoking and planning, when the horses became restless. Arod whinnied and shook his head up and down, and pawed the ground. When Cemera saw that his companion was fretting, he became agitated too, and shook so violently that one of Gimli's axes came free of its tether on the pony's back, and clattered to the ground.

Legolas jumped up immediately and went to Arod.

"What is it, my friend?" he asked, whispering soothingly and stroking the horse's forehead. "What could possibly be bothering you? Is it the emptiness of this place that is giving you bad nerves?"

He gently soothed the horse, and presently Arod calmed down. Legolas took his hand-made bow and quiver of arrows from Arod's saddle where they were hooked. He had brought them with him this time, in case there were more wolves or other predators about. He sensed now that some kind of animal was lurking in the mines. He and Gimli proceeded forward, leading the horses. Gimli had picked up his axe, and was carrying it in his hand.

They went through the left hallway, and traveled deep into the bowels of the earth below the mountains, along a very dusty road. The dust was so deep it felt like sand, and the soil was ankle high in some places. They passed strange, high mounds of dirt here and there and carefully picked their way around them. They found themsElves on a downward slope that led them further and further into darkness. Suddenly, the horses would go no further. Sensing danger, they simply stopped moving forward.

"There is something hiding in the mines", Legolas whispered to Gimli. "I sense a great beast, a hulking thing, lying in the shadows".

"Nonsense!" retorted Gimli. "It is as silent as a tomb in here! What could it be?"

Legolas and Gimli continued on a little way further and Legolas held up his torch. The horses' eyes gleamed in the light, huge and frightened. Slowly, Legolas turned around while holding the torch up high. He could sense, rather than see, a myriad of eyes all around them, watching silently.

He felt very strongly the need to flee, but just before he could say something about this to Gimli who had continued walking forward, the dwarf suddenly stepped into a hole of some kind and disappeared into the ground beneath his feet. He sank without making a sound except for a sudden "whoosh". The sand just swallowed him. As Legolas, alarmed, stepped forward to try to help him, he felt the front half of his foot sink into the suddenly very soft surface. The horses turned and fled in terror. The back half of Legolas's foot was momentarily still on solid ground, and in that instant, he threw all of his weight backward, trying to dig his heel into the ground to stabilize himself, and tossed the torch away behind him. With blinding speed, he drew an arrow from his quiver, and twisting his body sideways in one swift motion, he put it to his bow and shot the arrow into the ground beside his foot, in order to try to mark the spot where Gimli fell.

On his back, the torch several feet behind him lighting the way in front, Legolas saw a strange and terrible thing. An animal of some kind unknown to him, was tunneling, silently making a large pit out of the sandy soil by dragging its huge, shovel-shaped head back and forth and from side to side rapidly, causing whatever hapless creature was in the sandy pit to be drawn, sliding, toward its huge jaws. The creature was of the color of the earth, a pale sandy brown. Its shape was of a massive, elongated, slug-like thing. It had two tiny, mole-like eyes at either side of its shovel-shaped head. It did not make any sound at all, but lay hidden in the pit it had dug, its jaws protruding out of the sand, awaiting its next victim.

Legolas pulled out several arrows and shot them at the beast. They simply glanced off its body as if it were made of some tough armour. He prepared himself to be devoured as he kept sliding toward the creature. "Gimli!" he thought as he slid, "I hope we shall meet again!" Then, the ground suddenly opened up beneath him, and he fell.

7


	12. Chapter 12

12

Earendil's Journey Ends

The Silmarillion: P. 257: Of the Voyage of Earendil: "Now fair and marvellous was that vessel made, -- and Earendil the Mariner sat at the helm, -- and the Silmaril was bound upon his brow. Far he journeyed in that ship, even into the starless voids; but most often was he seen at morning or at evening -- as he came back to Valinor from voyages beyond the confines of the world."

While Frodo and Bilbo were enjoying the impressive and idyllic scenery of the city of Tirion and of Mt. Taniquetil, they were unaware that the Valar had gathered together for a meeting in which they were dealing with the possibility that Valinor was currently under attack. The Valar and the Maiar knew that they were the probable targets of the threatening force that had come to seek them out to exact its revenge.

As it had been feared for more than 6,000 years, Morgoth, the dark enemy of the world, had returned. He no longer possessed the ability to take physical form as any kind of person or creature of Eru's making, but he had fashioned a form for himself out of the shapes of things he had seen while he moved through the void of space. He chose to appear as black stars, empty things that craved to suck life out of the living and so extinguish it, and he wandered through the Void searching out signs of life that he could destroy. But nothing satisfied his evil lust and no amount of destruction of the objects he found in the Void was enough for him. He yearned for something more, but knew not what that was any longer. The desire was within him to return to his old home of Valinor, but he did not know how to find it, as he did not know where he was in the nothingness outside of the known universe.

He empowered himself to wander about here and there in the Void. Presently, he came upon a new form of life, or perhaps it was an unlife, that he could not extinguish. It was a massive black hole, the antithesis of a star. He felt himself drawn toward it, but it could not destroy his will, which was formed of pure, malevolent evil, and therefore stronger than the black hole's ambivalent nothingness. The power of its draw could not pull him in, and the thing was puzzled by this, so it chose to follow Morgoth about, in a way that, if it had possessed any feeling, would be a kind of admiration.

Eventually, as he wandered throughout the cosmos, Morgoth caught a glimpse of a far-off brightness that he recognized to be something familiar. In spite of the myriad of stars that existed in all of the galaxies in all of the universes, there was no light like that of the Silmarils. He had spotted the Star of Earendil.

"By all that should be mine," he thought and he craved this thing with an excitement he had not felt in a long time, "I see before me one of the Silmarils! I must have it again," he thought with determination. He understood at this instant what he had been missing throughout all of the ages that his spirit had dwelt in the Void, and he wafted toward the jewel of fire, with the black hole following behind him.

As he drew closer, he could see that the star was circling above a small world. He perceived that this was Valinor, the one world that he had wished for thousands of years to find. He immediately directed his evil thought into Manwe's mind with an exuberant lust. Manwe had been too late in removing the Star of Earendil from the night sky, and Morgoth put all of his evil energy into reaching it.

Some time later, the Valar sat in Manwe's great hall discussing how to handle this new threat of Morgoth that Manwe had just made known to them. As they sat in the White Hall in his palace on Mt. Taniquetil, Manwe spoke openly to his fellow Valar.

"My fellow Masters of Aman," he spoke gravely, "we are under a new threat from an old enemy. Morgoth has returned somehow from the void in new guise. He has not been able to provide himself with a physical form as such, but he has managed to cloak himself in the semblance of a cloudy apparition which is able to move in the Void, and from which exudes a terrible menace. He has sent his black thought into my mind, and with it, his threat. The cloud hangs above us. Everyone on these lands has seen it, although no one save us know what it is."

There were rumblings around the table from the other Valar. How has he threatened us?" asked Mandos.

"He has sent a wish for the demise of Aman into my mind," replied Manwe. "I know that in time we shall all be made aware of how he means to carry out this threat. However, I have a certainty of knowledge that we do have some time before he can get near enough to strike, in which we must act. Our first priority, I believe, would be to protect Earendil and Elwing from immediate harm. Since they are out there in the heavens, they are exposed, and they are in probable danger. Since Earendil holds the one remaining Silmaril, I fear that Morgoth may try to take it. We will need it, to use it as a bargaining tool, to use against his destroying of our world. Therefore, I propose that the ship Vingilot, with Earendil and Elwing aboard, should be brought down to land permanently to ensure their safety."

None of the other Valar objected to this strategy. Manwe's spouse, Varda, Maker of the Stars, had already agreed with him that Earendil should be brought back to land on Valinor when Manwe first became aware of Morgoth's return. However, rather than taking action immediately, Manwe had insisted to Varda that he wished to propose the idea first to the other Valar, and to the Maiar spirits as well.

With no opposition to the idea, Varda flew up into the heavens to Vingilot, the ship of Earendil the Mariner upon which he and Elwing his wife carried the Silmaril, and bade him guide it back down to land. She explained to them on the journey down, why it was that she had been sent to retrieve them and needed to bring them to safety.

Earendil and Elwing were most shocked to hear of the return of Morgoth, and appreciated that Manwe had thought of their safety. They were given a home near Mt. Taniquetil, within the fortress of Formenos, a stronghold which had been the home of Finwe, whose son Feanor had made the Silmarils thousands of years before. It had been kept in good repair since he had departed from it in the last Age of the Trees, but no one had lived in it since then.

The fortress was surrounded by a large moat in which the ship Vingilot could be docked. Earendil and Elwing made their new home there, and lived in uneasy comfort, while awaiting the events that were to unfold.

When they arrived at the fortress of Formenos, Earendil and Elwing were met by their son, Elrond, who had gone there to await their return. Manwe had told him that they would be staying there for a while, but did not tell him why they had come back to land. They were happily reunited, and Elrond stayed at Formenos with them to get to know them again, and he regaled them with stories about Imladris, and of all the happenings on Middle-earth since their departure. Earendil and Elwing knew that something was terribly wrong, that a great force was at work that had upset Manwe and Varda, but knew not what it was, and said nothing about it to Elrond. They dismissed their fears for the time being and all but forgot them as they rejoiced in the company of their beloved son, estranged from them no longer.

4


	13. Chapter 13

13

The Root People

The Silmarillion: P. 260-261: Of the Voyage of Earendil: "And Maedhros answered: 'But how shall our voices reach to Iluvatar beyond the Circles of the World? And by Iluvatar we swore in our madness, and called the Everlasting Darkness upon us, if we kept not our word. Who shall release us?'"

When Legolas dropped into the sinkhole, he was acutely aware that he had no precognition of what was happening to him, and did not know what to expect. It was an uneasy feeling, for his elven senses usually guided him, but this time they had abandoned him. He did not know if, or when, his feet would touch bottom, or if the sand would smother him before he reached it. After a few seconds of falling, or more accurately, being sucked down by the rushing sand, the side of his body struck something solid, and he fell into sudden openness and landed heavily on his back on hard ground. It felt like hard-packed soil, and slightly concave, not flat. Sand sprayed intermittently around and upon him as he lay still as stone.

"I must be in a tunnel," he thought. After a while in the silence, he raised his arms above him but could not feel a ceiling, so thought the tunnel must be large. He mentally assessed his body for damage, but it felt fine. "No broken bones. Good."

Legolas could see well in the dark, but the pitch-blackness of the tunnel was such that even he could see nothing. "Gimli!" he called out, but there was no answer save silence, and no sign at all of his friend.

Legolas had been holding his bow in his right hand when he fell, but it had been knocked loose from his grasp. He felt it underneath him on the ground, however, and he gingerly pulled it out and checked it for damage. His quiver of arrows was still strapped to his back, and there were yet a few arrows in it. He rose carefully, crouching at first, feeling around him for walls. He could not feel anything, and when he stood up, his head did not touch any ceiling. He moved sideways to his left, with his arm outstretched, until he touched a wall. On this, he dug a deep "X" mark with the pointed end of his bow. Then, counting paces, he moved to his right, stopping when he touched the wall on that side, about five steps away.

"A fairly wide tunnel," he thought. He walked forward carefully, keeping count of his paces as he moved ahead. After 100 steps, he stopped and dug another "X" mark into the left-hand wall. He reached up with his bow, and it struck a ceiling when his elbow was bent about 30 degrees. He estimated that the roof of the tunnel was about five feet taller than the top of his head. Because of the fairly large size of the tunnel he was in, Legolas assumed that it must be the lair of the beast that had surprised him on the road above. Therefore, he moved forward warily, always anticipating another encounter with either the same beast, or another one just like it.

The tunnel went on straight ahead for another 500 paces, with Legolas marking the wall every 100 steps as he walked forward. Then, the tunnel came to an abrupt end. Legolas could still see nothing but blackness, but he felt a narrower tunnel branching off to his right. He moved carefully into it, and, by feeling the walls and the ceiling, determined that this tunnel was much smaller than the first, by at least half of its width. It would have been much too small to house the beast, and so he felt safer in it, but still he wondered who or what had dug this tunnel. He was aware from the last time that he had been in Moria, that there were many chasms and deep places inside the Mines, but there was something he sensed that was different about this network of tunnels. It was underneath the bottom level of which they had previously known. These tunnels seemed newer, fresher, somehow. He sniffed the damp air.

The tunnel was steadily curving toward the right, and after awhile, he found another tunnel branching off of the new one, and this one was even narrower than the one in which he was travelling. Legolas decided not to take this third tunnel, but made a mental note of where he had found it. He kept moving forward along the second tunnel, and presently, again found another smaller tunnel, again branching off to the right. After much traveling, Legolas discovered that quite a network of new tunnels existed beneath the hallways of Moria, and he was much intrigued by this discovery.

He thought, then, that whoever had made the tunnels were trying to force their victims southerly, because all of the new ones branched off in that direction. He was acutely aware that he may be placing himself in great danger, but he decided to follow one of these to see where it would lead. Concern for Gimli was foremost in his mind, and he was determined to find his friend. He sensed that Gimli would have followed one of the tunnels and thus had gone the same way as he.

As Legolas crept along, he was worried that he was not finding any signs that Gimli had been there. He was sure that the dwarf would have dropped something on the ground for him to stumble across. It would have been quite easy to drop a glove, or a button, or some small item, but Legolas did not find anything. He hoped that Gimli had not been eaten by the creature, or that nothing else of an ill nature had befallen him. He thought that would have been unlikely, as he had dropped into the hole so quickly after Gimli, that he surely would have heard or sensed a struggle if Gimli had been attacked. The dwarf would have put up a tremendous fight, and would not have been quiet about it. It was more likely that his friend may have been carried off, alive. Legolas pushed forward, hope still in his heart that he would find Gimli well and safe.

There were many tunnels branching off of Legolas', but he stayed in the same one, and kept walking in the same direction, which he guessed to be southerly. After a long time, he came to a branch-tunnel from which a pale light issued. It was very faint, but Legolas's eyes picked up this light immediately. His heart began beating faster. He did not know what he would find, but he had hope of finding Gimli. He dashed ahead down the new tunnel toward the source of the light. It became much brighter as he drew closer to it.

The tunnel then opened wider and wider and the light became stronger, and then the tunnel opened into a large open chamber. Legolas looked around in amazement. He could see that he was in a cavern used for storage of some kind. Its walls and ceiling were shored up by great beams of wood, crossed over each other, supporting the ceiling and keeping the walls from caving in. At one end of the room was a large pedestal, and on top of this sat a metal cage, holding the source of light, which shone blindingly from it. What this source of light was, Legolas did not know, but the light shining from it was of such radiance that even he had trouble looking at it directly. Around the cavern's walls were set many shelves, upon which sat boxes, neatly arranged in rows. There were four tunnel openings that led out of the room. On the floor in the center of the chamber sat Gimli, bound with many ropes, and gagged with a cloth tied around his mouth, covering most of his face. Only his eyes showed above it, and they were wide open and staring intently at Legolas. Gimli's axe lay on the ground beside him.

Legolas ran over to him and tore the gag from Gimli's mouth.

"Go, Legolas! Run! Quickly!" Gimli gasped, frantically.

Legolas answered. "No, Gimli! I would not leave you here alone!"

"Don't be a fool! They will come back! You're faster than me! Go!" Gimli shouted.

Legolas shook his head in a determined gesture of refusal. Then he heard an almost imperceptible sound from one of the tunnels. He stood up quickly, his senses tingling. Suddenly there appeared from one of the tunnel openings dozens of tiny people. Without a sound, and moving very rapidly, they swarmed around Legolas. In a sudden movement, he picked up Gimli's axe from the ground.

"Back! Back! Tell me who you are and what you are doing here, or you will feel the unkind end of this axe!" he screamed, and raised it above his head, ready to strike.

The little people surrounded him, but did nothing except stand there and stare up at him. They were only about two and a half feet tall. From among their midst, one of them approached the elf. This was undoubtedly their leader. He wore some sort of headgear that set him apart from the others, who all looked the same. The tiny man approached Legolas and looked up at him with intensity but he could not fathom his expression.

"My name is Mene-mil," said the little man. "Now quickly tell me yours and what your business is here." He spoke sternly, yet in a voice as soft as water falling upon rocks.

Legolas was angry, but suppressed the feeling. The little man's demeanor was not threatening, only wary. "I am Legolas, of the woodland elven realm of Ithilorien in Gondor," he replied. "I have no official business here, except to rescue my friend Gimli, who fell into a hole created by a strange beast."

"What is Gimli's business?" asked Mene-mil. "We asked him, but he did not tell us. We had to tie his hands and gag him as he would not stop cursing and shouting. He did not give us a chance to explain oursElves."

Legolas looked upon Mene-mil then with some admiration for the tiny peoples' ability to be able to restrain Gimli, the fearsome dwarf warrior, and with some amusement at the picture Mene-mil had painted of the struggle which had ensued between them.

"I was exploring the ancient realm of my forefathers," explained Gimli, clearly annoyed. Several of the little people came forward to help him untie himself from his bounds. "My name is Gimli, son of Gloin, of the Lonely Mountain. These mines are supposed to have been deserted years ago, or so we thought. My friend Legolas and I were coming back for a visit. We had passed through these mines many years ago, while wars were still being fought in these lands."

"Are you both dwarves, then?" asked Mene-mil, looking wonderingly at Legolas.

"I am a dwarf," said Gimli, surprised at the question. "My friend Legolas is an elf. Do you not recognize our different races?"

"No," replied Mene-mil. "My people and I have lived underground for a very long time. I can see only that he is taller and fairer than you are. Otherwise you are the same to us. You are of the big people. The only other beings we have seen in a very long while are the ant lions."

"Ant lions?" asked Legolas.

"Yes, the beast that you mentioned was undoubtedly an ant lion. There are a few of them in this area. It is some kind of larva of a dragonfly-like creature that eats ants and other insects in its true form. It has grown to huge size in these tunnels, and cannot get out, so it keeps eating our people, and keeps getting bigger. In a way, it is good that they cannot get out, otherwise if they managed it and then became flying beasts, who can tell what havoc they could cause?"

"Where did you come from?" asked Gimli. "Up until a few years ago, there was a realm of dwarves living in these mines, and evil beings called orcs, which killed all the dwarves. Then, the Dark Lord Sauron, the master of the orcs, was defeated, and all of his evil servants disappeared."

"We are the root-people," said Mene-mil. "We used to dwell long ago in the Grey Mountains. We have spent many years moving slowly through underground tunnels that we dug as we moved along. We were trying to escape from terrible torment. We have spent most of our lives, and for some of us, all of our lives, escaping from a Dark Lord named Morgoth. It is a wondrous thing to know that the evil is now gone, although we did not know it until this moment."

Legolas and Gimli were astounded. "We have never heard of your people," said Legolas. "How is it possible that you have existed for this long without being discovered?"

"In the beginning, we were dwarves of the Grey Mountains," explained Mene-mil, to a shocked Legolas and Gimli. "We were captured and then taken from our homes by servants of the Dark Lord Morgoth, and he turned us into twisted little creatures that he called "Rorts." He tried to bend us to his will and make us do his bidding, but he did not succeed. He did not know that dwarves are stubborn. They are unbendable, and as resistant as the rocks from which they were made."

"This is a discovery of great wonder!" exclaimed Gimli. He and Legolas exchanged excited glances. Legolas looked to be greatly amused, as well as surprised, by Mene-mil's story. Gimli was elated. Mene-mil continued.

"Morgoth discovered that we would not do that which he willed us to do, which was to steal things and bring them to him, and then to work in his mines, extracting metals and jewels, and in his forges, to make devices of evil for him. And so he took us and threw us into his deepest dungeons in the bowels of the earth, to die slow, suffocating deaths. However, what he wished for did not happen. We survived because we were able to grow roots. Look."

Mene-mil then drew up his little robe, exposing a ring of whitish, fleshy tendrils that grew out of his waist, all around the circumference of his body. The other root-people, in unison, drew up their robes to show the visitors their roots. They all had identical tendrils growing from their bodies, the skin of which was a pale, grayish color.

"By the growth of these roots, we were able to live underground, drawing nutrients and water out of the soil. For many centuries we were unable to move, but we survived by becoming almost like plants buried in the earth. Our size became stunted, and we have remained very small ever since. Being dwarves originally helped us to survive as well, because we were formed from rock and stone anyway. We were able to converse with each other, even underground. We called oursElves "root-people" because we did not like, and would not use, the name "Rorts," which Morgoth had given us.

Eventually, a miraculous event occurred. The earth shook and chasms opened in it. Fire came, and molten liquid ran everywhere. When this happened, we were shaken from the earth, and we found that we could move once more. Our legs had renewed strength, and our hands could dig. And so dig we did, through the earth, making tunnels, many tunnels. We would see from time to time the evil creatures called "orcs" when we peeked above the surface. We became very good at avoiding being seen. We discovered that Morgoth had turned to the Elves to corrupt them and twist them to his evil purposes after being unsuccessful with dwarves. He had successfully turned some of the Elves into orcs, as they were much easier to bend to his will, where dwarves had proved to be impossible."

Gimli felt a smile grow across his lips, and he glanced at Legolas. The elf looked rather taken aback, and Gimli found that to be amusing. Warmth grew in his heart for the brave little root-people.

Mene-mil continued. "We found many gemstones beneath the earth's surface, and began to collect them. We had to devise little vehicles to carry them that we could pull behind us. Then we found a very strange jewel. It was much bigger than the others, and it shone with a great light, very unnatural. We carried it with us as we tunneled farther and farther under the earth, away from Morgoth's dungeons and away from the earthquakes and the fire. We stopped eventually in this place. We liked it here because it already had great caverns and tunnels built under the mountains. We discovered that it had been a great realm of the dwarves, whom we still consider to be our kin. However, we had been so used to staying hidden, that we continued to do so, and did not make ourselves known to the dwarves who lived here. Then, we discovered after awhile that the orcs and other great evil creatures of fire were here also, and we thought at first that Morgoth had sent them after us to bring us back to him so that he could punish us. But then, when they had killed all of the dwarves, we were very sad, and afraid again for our own existence. And so, we have stayed hidden ever since, and we are still usually wary of others."

Mene-mil removed his headgear, which was a simple little helmet made out of metal. His head was completely hairless. His eyes were huge and yellowish-brown, and set in a small, plain face. He was practically neckless, and his body was short and squat. His arms were thick and muscular, with wide hands and long, thick fingers, their tips shaped like spoons. He wore a simple robe of hide, and his legs were short and very strong, his feet wide and large.

"Your tale is strange, indeed," said Legolas. "What do you plan to do now? The world has become a free place again in which one can live as one desires, without threat of war or evil. However, there is a great deal of unpleasantness in it yet, as its people cope with many new problems. Do you plan ever to go to the outside and reveal yoursElves to the rest of the world?"

Mene-mil shook his head. "We have discussed whether or not we will remain living this way, and we have not yet reached a decision. We will continue to talk about it, but I feel that most of us wish to stay as we are, for a while yet. We have become so used to living underground that the light bothers us, for one thing. I will admit that for myself, I feel a longing to experience the outdoor air again. As for the light, I wanted to ask you if you know what this strange jewel is, which emits such an intense radiance. It does not seem to have its origin in this world, of that I am sure. It is impossible for us to look directly at it, and we usually keep it covered."

Legolas and Gimli looked again toward the source of light in the cavern. It was held in the cage of silver that Legolas had first noticed when he entered the room. Brilliant shards of light broke through the bars of the cage, and rainbows of color spread about it, even though at first glance, the light appeared to be white.

"Could I look at it more closely?" asked Legolas. "Its light does not seem to bother me as much as it does the others."

Gimli covered his eyes, as he found it painful to look at it.

Mene-mil bound his own eyes with a piece of cloth through which he could see, but it filtered the light. He used a poker-like instrument to open the lid of the cage. He lifted the jewel out with a pair of tongs, and handed it to Legolas. "Be careful," he said. "You cannot hold it in your hands. It burns. Look at what it does to them." There, attached to the gemstone, was a charred, skeletal, blackened elvish hand.

Legolas recoiled in horror. "Ai!" he cried. "No! It cannot be!"

"What is it, Legolas?" shouted Gimli, frightened by his friend's reaction.

"This must be the Silmaril of Maedhros! His hand still holds it!" cried Legolas. "You have found the Silmaril which was lost to the earth! We are looking at the evidence of a death most terrible, and it is sure as death that now we shall have a great curse upon us!"

Gimli was startled to see Legolas in such a state. "Legolas, what are you talking about?" he asked. "Do you know to whom this hand belongs and what this strange jewel is?"

Legolas sank to the ground and knelt there, stunned by their discovery. Then he told them the story of Feanor, his sons, the Silmarils, and the curse, of which Gimli and the root-people knew nothing.

"Well, whatever are we going to do with the accursed thing?" Gimli asked, letting out a long breath. "This is a real dilemma. Wherever the Silmaril goes, the chance of the curse following it will bring too great a risk to us, anywhere we take it. We cannot take it to Minas Tirith, for instance, because it may bring trouble for Aragorn. I cannot think of what to do."

Legolas had been sitting in silence, his head bowed. Now he looked up toward the others. "Mene-mil, do you have any claim on this jewel?" he asked.

"Claim? Oh, no, not us," replied Mene-mil. "We have collected many jewels over the long years we have spent tunneling," he said, indicating the many storage boxes. "Come and see." He gestured for Legolas and Gimli to have a look inside the boxes. The two friends did so, and saw a wealth of gems and precious metals revealed to them.

"We thought these were pretty things, and so we collected them," said Mene-mil, "but we do not have any real use for them. We are simply grateful for our lives. We do not have any claim on the strange jewel. Please, take it. We do not like it, anyway, because of its strange light that makes it difficult to look upon. Now, we definitely do not want it, if it carries a curse as well."

"Thank you, Mene-mil," said Legolas. "If you will then relinquish the Silmaril, I will take it to the one person who does have a claim on it." He told them all about Lindaril, and her claim to be the heiress of Feanor. "If anyone has the ability to remove the curse, it will be her," he said. "If she is the rightful owner, which I do believe her to be, then she should have the jewel which was made by, and belonged to, her ancestor. I must hurry, though, because she is on her way to the Grey Havens as we speak, and I will have to work hard to overtake her. The horses have left us, and I would have to go first to Edoras in order to retrieve Arod, and leave from there for the Grey Havens."

"I can show you a safe way out of here," said Mene-mil. "You need to be wary of the ant lions, but if you use our newer, smaller tunnels, through which they cannot fit, you can reach the outside in less than a day. Come, I will take you." He turned to one of the other root-men standing near him. "Digdigil," he commanded, "come here, please. This is my cousin, and second-in-command, Digdigil," he explained to Gimli and Legolas. "I leave you here, cousin, with this cantankerous dwarf. Please take him around the mines, and show him what we have done here. Beware the ant lions, all of you! They have become more active of late, and it seems they are ravenous for root-person, and now, perhaps, dwarf!" Mene-mil headed off down one of the tunnels. Legolas looked back at Gimli, who appeared quite uncomfortable at hearing Mene-mil's words.

"Gimli, will you stay here, or will you come with me?" Legolas asked, as he gingerly wrapped up the Silmaril in its holder, inside his vest. He then strapped it to his back with his quiver of arrows.

"I will slow you down if I come," replied Gimli. "I will stay here with the root-people. I think that there is much I can do to help them here. When you return from the Grey Havens, will you come back for me?"

Legolas smiled at Gimli, and nodded. "I promise," he said, and turned to follow Mene-mil.

The elf and the root-man emerged from the tunnel in less than a day, as Mene-mil had promised. At the tunnel opening, Legolas stooped down to bid Mene-mil goodbye. The little man was gazing at the outdoor surroundings in wonder. The tunnel opening was near the southern arm of the Misty Mountain range, and close to Mirrormere, the reflecting lake. It was a very beautiful area.

"May I ask something very bold of you?" Mene-mil enquired.

"You may indeed. What is it?" asked Legolas.

"Would you take me with you on your journey? I have never traveled above ground before. This may be the only chance I will ever have." His huge yellowish eyes looked plaintively up at the elf.

"I am sorry, but no. I must run many miles on foot," replied Legolas, looking down sympathetically at Mene-mil. "You could not keep up with me."

"I could sit on your shoulders," offered the root-man. "You will see that I weigh next to nothing."

"This goes against my better judgment, but something compels me to do as you ask," said the elf. He knelt down on the ground. "Jump up, quickly, and hold on tight!" he urged.

Mene-mil leapt onto Legolas's broad shoulders and grasped hold of his quiver strap. He held on tightly as Legolas ran as swiftly as he could to the Fords of Isen. It took about a day to get there, and when they reached the Fords, Legolas was most surprised and delighted to discover Arod and Cemera, who were drinking from the river.

Thankful for finding the horses, and thinking now that he would change his route and make his way directly to the Grey Havens, Legolas put Mene-mil upon Cemera, and with himself riding Arod, they sped toward the north-west, and the Grey Havens.

13


	14. Chapter 14

14

Manwë Sulimo, King of the Valar

The Silmarillion: P. 14: Valaquenta: "Manwë and Varda are seldom parted, and they remain in Valinor. Their halls are above the everlasting snow, upon Oilosse, the uttermost tower of Taniquetil, tallest of all the mountains upon Earth."

When Manwë discovered that Bilbo and Frodo had arrived on Mt. Taniquetil, he asked Olórin to bring the two hobbits to meet him. Olórin prepared them for the visit, so that they would not be too nervous upon meeting the King of the Valar. As the old wizard led them to the White Hall, Frodo asked him if it would be possible for them to walk there through the gardens that were visible through the many windows in the palace.

"My friends, we are on top of a mountain," Olórin replied. "The view from this height may frighten you and I can see that you are apprehensive enough. I think we should leave a garden tour for another time. You will soon see enough that will impress you in the White Hall."

"My curiosity will have to wait for another time to be satisfied," Frodo thought with a deep sigh, as he and Bilbo followed Olórin up the steps that led into the White Hall. The hobbits paused to absorb their surroundings, which were magnificent. The White Hall was wider than the Great Hall of Minas Tirith. Down the center flowed a sapphire-blue carpet, embroidered with gold and silver stars. The floor beneath was of pure white marble, flecked with ice-blue veins. Set into the tiles of the floor, at intervals, were gemstones of a blue-green color. Frodo recognized them as aquamarines, a favorite jewel of the Elves, and he had seen many Elves wearing jewellery made with this stone in Valinor.

Along the walls were many large statues of ancient-looking people, most of whom were god-like in appearance. The walls were made of white marble also, and on them hung many tapestries and paintings. The woven tapestries depicted vivid scenes of battles, and of majestic landscape vistas. Most of the paintings were of animals; eagles and wolves seemed to be particular favorites, Frodo noticed. Between the paintings and tapestries on the walls were sconces of gold and silver, holding torches ready to be lit.

At the end of the Hall, two magnificent sapphire-blue curtains were swept aside with great ropes studded with jewels in order that the visitors could pass through into Manwë's throne room. The King sat upon a great seat made from pure gold, and inlaid with pearls. On each side of the room were huge open windows cut out of the walls, of intricate design and patterns. Through these windows, Manwë was afforded a spectacular view of the City of Tirion below.

On each side of the throne were two great lamp bowls sitting upon two monolithic blocks of white marble. These lamps were exact replicas of the original Lamps of the Valar of old. In them burned fragrant fire. On each block of marble were carved replicas of the Trees of Light, one inlaid with gold, and the other with silver. The hobbits' eyes turned to the King of the Valar sitting on the throne. His appearance was that of an ageless wise man. His head was large, his hair white and falling in waves about his shoulders. He wore no crown, but a circlet of silver set with aquamarines was worn around his brow. His stature was tall and strong, and he was larger in size than any of the Elves. He was clothed in white robes, as was Olórin. One had a sense of well-being in his presence. He exuded a sense of caring and protectiveness, and the hobbits felt immediately safe and comfortable as they gazed up at him.

Olórin made the introductions. "My Lord Manwë, may I present my friends, Masters Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, previously of the Shire. Bilbo and Frodo, this is my Lord and Master, Manwë Sulimo, King of the Valar, and ruler of Valinor."

Manwë stood and extended his hand down to the hobbits. He was taller than Aule, but not as big in girth. Even though Bilbo and Frodo had grown in size, they were still only half as tall as Manwë. Their hands were dwarfed by his, as he shook them one by one. In a deep, resonant voice, he welcomed them. "Masters Bilbo and Frodo, please come and sit beside me. I have been told everything about you and your brave adventures. I wish to hear your opinions about the Undying Lands. Have you been able to make the adjustment to living among us happily enough?" Manwë spoke kindly. Since Bilbo and Frodo were the very first hobbits to come to the Undying Lands, he was anxious to hear that the experience had been welcoming for them.

"We are most happy here, Your Majesty," replied Bilbo. "Everyone has been exceptionally kind to us, and to be honest, this is the most beautiful and comfortable country I have ever visited. I almost feel badly saying it, however, as I used to think that of the Shire, my old home, and I do not wish to be disloyal to my old country."

Frodo added, "We are most grateful to you for granting us your permission to come here, as we do realize that if you had not, then we would be - we would be - "

"Come now, Master Frodo," said Manwë in a soothing voice. "Come up and sit with me, both of you. I know what you were going to say, that you would have died, but please do try to forget all about that. You should feel free to start enjoying the new life that you find unfolding before you."

Bilbo and Frodo climbed up the steps and sat beside Manwë on soft benches covered with blue silk cushions. Olórin had left the Hall briefly, and now returned, followed by a retinue of beautiful Elves, dressed identically in blue silk robes, carrying silver trays of food and drink. They brought pipe weed as well, for the hobbits to smoke.

The hobbits saw that there was an exquisite woman following the Elves, who was like a vision of starlight entering the Hall. This was Varda, wife of Manwë, and the creator of the stars, the sun and the moon. She was tall and slender, with smooth white hair, hanging long in front of her shoulders. She also wore a circlet of aquamarines around her forehead, and a necklace of these adorned her gown. Her dress was of a silvery fabric, sheer and shimmering, and clung to her as she walked. It was held at the shoulders by two aquamarine clasps. She walked slowly, taking long steps, with a regal gait. When she reached the hobbits, she held out a long, slender arm clasped in a silver bracelet, to each one, who could not help but gape at her splendor.

"How do you do, Master Hobbits?" she asked, in a soft, sparkling voice. Her eyes shone with a silver light, and there was a silvery radiance all about her. She possessed an ageless beauty, not young, yet not old either, but wise beyond all knowledge, and the hobbits felt a magical presence about her.

Bilbo and Frodo stood up and bowed to this radiant lady. "It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty," they said. They each kissed her extended hand. "It is, indeed, an honor to be here," said Bilbo.

Varda smiled upon them. "Thank you, and please do enjoy your meal. I had it prepared especially for you with your favorite foods." She took a seat beside Olórin, who was sitting on the other side of Manwë's throne.

During the meal, which the hobbits enjoyed thoroughly, and of which Manwë, Varda and Olórin did not partake, the hobbits told the King and Queen about their journey so far.

"Our map-making is going very well," said Bilbo. "I have found it exceedingly easy to do in these lands, and everyone we have met has been very helpful. I could not have imagined having a more enjoyable occupation."

Manwë and Varda seemed very pleased at this. "That is good to hear," said Varda, and laughed enchantingly, "Although I would have been surprised if you had told us otherwise."

Frodo sat comfortably, enjoying his meal, and marveled at how approachable the King and Queen of the Valar were, despite the power and the presence that they held. He realized that what Este had told him was true, that the people of Valinor, all the way up to their leader, were every one of them possessed of the same courtesy and kindness.

After the meal was finished, Olórin took the hobbits to their bedrooms, which were spacious and luxurious. Their walls were covered in beautiful tapestries, depicting scenes of such pastoral beauty, that they could lull a person to sleep after looking at them for only a few minutes. Their beds were of the softest down mattresses, and covered with soft silk sheets. On the white marble floors were rugs woven of silk, and embroidered with intricate patterns.

The hobbits slept peacefully that night, and when they awoke the next morning they saw that their bedrooms had huge floor to ceiling windows, which opened onto wide balconies, filled with many plants and flowers. They both rushed out to enjoy the view at the same time, and ran into each other. Their rooms were adjoining, and the balconies were open all around the perimeter of the palace. Bilbo and Frodo laughed delightedly, and as they were enjoying the view, Olórin entered Frodo's room, followed by some Elves bearing trays of breakfast food.

"Good morning, my friends," the wizard called out, his voice and manner jovial. "I have brought you some breakfast! Please enjoy it, and then I will take you for a walk about the gardens, as you had wished to do yesterday, Frodo!"

The hobbits were delighted, and tucked into their meal with gusto.

"What are the gardens like here, Olórin?" asked Frodo.

"They are terraced," Olórin replied. "This palace sits on top of a mountain and many terraces have been built all the way up the side, and gardens have been planted on each one. It is rather like Minas Tirith, with its many levels, although here in Manwë's palace, the terraces go up only one side of the mountain."

"I never had the chance to see Minas Tirith," sighed Bilbo wistfully.

"I do think about Aragorn and our other friends quite a lot," said Frodo. "I often wonder how they are all doing. I do miss them, Olórin."

"Of course you do, Frodo," said Olórin sympathetically. "Fortunately, you may be able to see some of them again."

"Oh, who, Olórin? Please tell me!" Frodo pleaded.

"Well, you do know that Samwise will be coming later on. He will enjoy a good life on Middle-earth, and have a large family, and when it is time, he will sail here, just as you did. Besides him, Legolas and Gimli will also come, when the time finally arrives for Legolas to sail away from Middle-earth. Galadriel has managed to get permission for Gimli to come here also, and he will be the first and only dwarf to journey to Tol Eressëa."

"What will happen to the others?" Frodo asked.

"I am sorry, Frodo, but they will pass away, as all mortals do. They have not been granted immortality, as you, Bilbo, Sam, Legolas and Gimli have. Do not grieve for them, however. Mortality is not such a bad thing, and they know it, and they are not saddened by the thought that one day they will go to the Halls of Mandos. To live forever is much more of a challenge than it is to die. I am sure that you will eventually find this to be so." 

Later, as Frodo and Bilbo were walking about the terraced gardens with Olórin, Frodo remembered to ask him about the dark cloud that they had seen.

"Ah, yes, the cloud," said Olórin, suddenly looking serious.

"Do you know what it is, Olórin?" asked Frodo.

Olórin paused, and then looked down at Frodo. "The cloud is an important matter," he said. "There has been a council called for tomorrow, in order to discuss what is to be done about it. Would you like to attend this meeting, both of you? It will take place in the White Hall."

"A meeting about a cloud?" asked Frodo, incredulously.

"You should not dismiss the matter as unimportant," said Olórin. "If you attend the meeting, you will understand better than if I were to try to explain it to you afterward. There is still much that we do not know of the cloud's significance, and once everyone has given of their information and ideas, a clearer picture may emerge of what this thing might be."

"But we are only hobbits," said Frodo. "Why would Manwë want us at this meeting? We have no information to impart."

"You are not only hobbits," replied Olórin sternly. "You are representatives of your people. All of the peoples of these lands should have a representative at this council, as it concerns them all."

"In that case, we will come," said Frodo, taken aback by Olórin's vehemence.

6


	15. Chapter 15

15

A Ride to the Grey Havens

This chapter attempts to insert a little lightness into the gloom by having Legolas come across Pippin in his travels.

It was an arduous ride to the Grey Havens for Legolas and Mene-mil. It took them a day to reach the Old South Road and another four to reach the Brandywine River. They crossed the river at Sarn Ford and raced through the Far Downs of the Shire and then through the Tower Hills. Legolas was compelled to stop many more times than he would have wished in order to rest the horses and give them water.

"I am glad that you do not need much sustenance, and therefore you have not slowed our progress," Legolas told Mene-mil on one of their stops, remarking on his hardiness.

"Yes, I am fine to go on with just a little water, and when the horses stop for their drink, I can have mine, too," said the little man, who was as happy as a lark just to be on the journey. He never complained, and he never asked Legolas for anything.

They had managed to make very good time; however, when they finally arrived at the Grey Havens, it had been fully two fortnights since they had left the tunnels. Legolas quickly sought out Círdan, the shipwright, and Lord of the Grey Havens, only to find that they had arrived too late and had missed Lindaril by a fortnight. She had already sailed away to Valinor. She was gone.

Legolas was not in a good frame of mind as he and Mene-mil set out on the return journey to Moria. He was in deep despair because he had missed Lindaril, and he was feeling the burden of carrying the hidden Silmaril as a heavy load upon his back. Mene-mil was feeling badly, too, for his new friend, who had been kind enough to let him come along on the journey. The little man remained silent, because he could see that Legolas was feeling badly. Arod and Cemera trudged along the Greenway Road back through the Shire, their hooves making hollow clip-clopping sounds except when they sloshed through puddles or squelched through the late winter mud. Legolas had a brief thought of stopping at Hobbiton in hopes of seeing his old friends, Sam, Merry and Pippin again, but felt at the end that he would not wish to take the Silmaril there and perhaps bring danger to them.

Years before, in the S. R. year 1427, King Elessar had made a new law that stated no man was ever again permitted to enter the Shire, in order to spare the hobbits from any further dangers. Although Legolas was an Elf, and by so being, was allowed by law in the Shire, he did not wish to bring danger there because of Feanor' s curse on the Silmarils. He turned, therefore, onto the Old South Road, and he and Mene-mil began to make their way back in the direction from which they had come, but their pace was much more slow than it had been on the way to the Havens.

Legolas's mood became gradually brightened by the pleasantness of the Shire's lands as they traveled through them, even though it was but January of the new year, and there were small traces of snow upon the ground. When they had raced through the country on their way to the Grey Havens, Legolas had not noticed how green the fields were, but now he could see that much of the Shire's original pastoral beauty had been restored after the end of the wars.

The Shire had suffered much, as had Rohan, Gondor, and other parts of Middle-earth. Many homes and farms had been set afire and had been ravaged, and many innocent hobbit lives had been lost. The only place that seemed not to have been touched by war was the Grey Havens. There, it was as tranquil and beautiful as it had ever been.

Legolas had felt the pull of the sea once again while in its proximity at the Havens, even though he had spent but a brief time there. Right away he had wished to follow Lindaril to Valinor when Círdan had told him that she had sailed away, but luckily there were no ships ready to sail at that time. Círdan had encouraged him to return to finish his work in Ithilorien.

"My dear Legolas," Círdan had said, "your time on Middle-earth has not come to an end. You have work yet to do. I feel strongly in my heart that you must not yet take the ship to the Undying Lands. One day, when it is time for me to go, I will come to visit you in your new home and pass on to you my shipbuilding knowledge. Then, I shall sail away myself. You may build your ship at Pelargir, close to your home, and sail to the Undying Lands from the Bay of Belfalas, if you wish. I will give you a guide to the Straight Path from there."

Legolas had almost told Círdan about the Silmaril since he was feeling a strange sense of panic at missing Lindaril and not being able to give her the jewel to take back to Valinor. He was convinced that it would have been in its rightful place with her, and then it would have gone safely out of Middle-earth and would no longer have been a threat. He felt that Middle-earth had suffered enough damage, and did not need to suffer a new curse upon its lands and people.

When they were on the outskirts of the Shire, near the White Downs that were not far from Hobbiton, Legolas could see that the horses needed to rest. They decided to stop in a secluded area in a woody dale, where they would not easily be seen by any passersby.

Mene-mil looked tired, and his tiny frame shook and shivered as he tried to find a comfortable place on the ground on which to sit. There were traces of snow scattered about, and the ground was hard. Legolas sat down beside him and noticed that he was freezing.

"You look cold, Mene-mil," he remarked. "Let me get you some covering. You are not dressed warmly enough for this wintry weather."

"I would never complain," said Mene-mil, "because I am happy to be outside, but since you have mentioned it, I confess I am feeling quite cold. The climate is much warmer underground, to be sure. I am not at all used to the colder air aboveground, but I do not mind it. I would not have missed this adventure for the world."

"You are brave," remarked Legolas. "The weather has become very cold indeed. There is frost all about us on the ground. Luckily, I have some blankets with me."

When the travelers had stopped in the Grey Havens, Legolas had picked up some provisions. He now took a warm wool blanket from one of Arod's saddlebags, and folded it in half. He wrapped it around Mene-mil's body, and then sat with his arm around the little man, and hugged him close to his own body for warmth.

"Why do you call this an adventure?" Legolas asked, laughing. "Absolutely nothing has happened to us so far! It has been a very uneventful trip!" Although he tried to stay merry for Mene-mil's sake, there was a trace of bitterness in his voice as he reflected upon his bad luck.

"For me, just seeing the world outside is an adventure," replied Mene-mil, not seeming to notice Legolas's mood. He looked up at the tall pine trees that lined the road, their tops like black-feathered fingers pointing upwards into the brittle greyness of the January sky. "The trees seem alive. I mean, I know they are alive, but to me they look as vibrant as if they could walk, and talk to each other. Look at that big one. It looks sad." He pointed out a huge oak tree, bereft of its leaves, which was standing like a lonely sentinel upon a hilltop, silent but seeming to stare, with its soul bared, at the two travelers.

"He is not sad as much as impatient for the spring to come. The trees are alive, Mene-mil," said Legolas. "More so than you realize, although it was very astute of you to see a spirit within that old oak. When you feel rested enough, and we can resume our journey, I will take you into the Old Forest, which should not be too far out of our way on the ride back to Moria. That should give you a bit of an adventure, more so than you have experienced thus far. I can tell you also a tale from my childhood in Mirkwood Forest that will perhaps give you nightmares." The Elf brightened a bit at the memory.

"Is it frightening? That sounds wonderful," said Mene-mil. "I cannot wait to hear it."

After resting a while longer, it was time to resume their journey. Legolas helped Mene-mil climb up onto Cemera again, and tied him to the pony with a rope wound around his waist, which he then attached securely to the saddle.

"There," he said. "That should hold you safe and secure if you wish to sleep while you ride. This cold could make you very drowsy, and you would fall off the pony if you fell asleep against your will."

Legolas then leapt onto Arod's back, and turned him eastward. Cemera followed at a trot.

They had not gone very far along the East-West Road, and Legolas and Mene-mil were deep in their own thoughts in the silence when Arod abruptly stopped, as did Cemera behind him, and the two travelers were shaken out of their reverie.

In front of the horses appeared a wagon, which had shot across from the side of the road and had stopped in a dead halt in front of them. Out of this wagon tumbled a disheveled hobbit and his female hobbit companion, as well as a quantity of straw that they had been using as bedding.

"I don't believe it!" cried the hobbit, looking up at the Elf with annoyance. Then, he cried, "Legolas!" and his expression turned to one of joy as he recognized his old friend. "What a sight you are!"

"I am a sight? You should see yoursElf!" replied Legolas, laughing in spite of his gloominess, as he recognized his old friend, Pippin, and his wife, Diamond.

"Ah, well," said Pippin, brushing bits of straw off of his clothing, and pulling it out of his hair, "we were having a bit of fun, and the wagon rolled off with us in it! But that was yesterday! Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh! Allow me to introduce Diamond to you. I don't believe the two of you have ever met before."

Legolas could not help himsElf, and laughed at this unconventional and completely nonconformist hobbit.

"Pippin, it is good to see that you have not changed," he said. "I am very pleased to meet you, Madam," and held out his hand to Diamond.

"Diamond, this is my very good friend, Legolas, the Elf, who was from Mirkwood. He was one of the members of our Fellowship!"

Pippin kept chuckling as he brushed straw from his own clothes and from Diamond's, who was somewhat stunned by the sight of Legolas. She had never met any Elves before, as most of them had left Middle-earth by this time, and she had never left the Shire. She was not prepared for his appearance, which took her breath away. She shook his hand, and could barely muster a word to say to him.

"Hello," she managed to whisper, shyly.

"He is rather bright, isn't he? You'll get used to him after a while," said Pippin, giving her a nudge. "What are you doing here, Legolas? Were you coming to visit us?"

"No, as it happens, we were returning from the Grey Havens when we chanced to meet you," said Legolas.

"Did you change your mind about leaving Middle-earth, then?" asked Pippin. "No? Ha! Ha! Just a joke! So, then, what were you doing there? Seeing someone off?"

"Why, yes," replied Legolas, taken aback by the question. "I was seeing someone off." A look of profound sadness crossed his face. Pippin looked at him with curiosity. Then he noticed Mene-mil, who was sitting upon Cemera.

"Who is your little friend, Legolas?" he asked. "Are you a hobbit?" he asked Mene-mil, peering curiously at the grey little man.

"Please excuse my rudeness in not introducing my companion," said Legolas. "I have been rather preoccupied. This is Mene-mil. He has traveled with me from Moria to the Grey Havens."

"Moria?" asked Pippin. "He is not an orc, is he?"

"No, Pippin! You know that the orcs are all dead! He is related to the Dwarves," said Legolas.

"Dwarves?" asked Pippin. "Oh! I see! Is this Gimli's son?"

"No!" replied Legolas. "Please, Pippin! I cannot explain to you just now who Mene-mil is! Just suffice it to say that he is a close kin of the Dwarves!"

"Alright!" said Pippin, looking at Legolas curiously again. "No need to be short with me! Can you come and visit with us for awhile?"

"I would truly love to visit," said Legolas with a sigh, "but there is something I must do first, which is of great importance, and thus I cannot stop." He was worried about the potential danger to the Shire from the Silmaril's possible curse, but he would not make that fact known to Pippin. He felt that the hobbits had been through enough troubles, and that the Shire should be left in peace.

"Oh, come on!" coaxed Pippin. "Come and have a drink with us! We could go to the Prancing Pony, in Bree, for some ale! It is not so very far from here, and I know that you like to drink ale, as Gimli has told me so! We could hitch this wagon to your horse, and -"

"No, Pippin, I am sorry, but I cannot go," said Legolas. "I will tell you this, though. I promise that I will try to return to see you before the year is out. I cannot stay for a longer visit now, as I am bound by the restriction of another promise that I cannot break, and I must be elsewhere even as we speak."

"Well, alright, but you are being very mysterious," said Pippin. "I am sorry that you cannot come for a visit and stay a while. Will we see you soon, Legolas, perhaps in Minas Tirith? Merry and I should be going there before the year is out. Will you give my regards to Gimli, and if you see Faramir, tell him I'll see him soon as well, won't you? Goodbye to you, too, Mene-mil. I am quite happy to have met a friend of Legolas's who is nearer to my own size!"

"It was good to meet you as well," said Mene-mil, smiling at Pippin.

Legolas bowed to Diamond, and waved to Pippin.

"Goodbye for now," Legolas called out as he and Arod galloped away, with Cemera and Mene-mil following closely.

After leaving Pippin and Diamond, Legolas decided that they should make their way toward the Old Forest, as he had promised Mene-mil that he would take him there. He turned to the little root-man.

"We should have a better adventure in the Forest than we would drinking ale at a tavern," he said.

"What is this ale that you like so much?" asked Mene-mil.

Legolas laughed. "I do not like ale at all," he replied. "It is a favorite drink of men and Dwarves. Remind me to have a word with Gimli about telling people I like to drink ale when we get back to Moria."

"Is that what our home in the mines under the mountains is called? Moria?" asked Mene-mil. "That is a beautiful name. It has a sound of mystery about it, which is just right for that place, because it is full of hidden secrets."

"That is true--it is," said Legolas, "but Moria is its Elvish name, and it was also known by many others: Khazad-dum, DwarrowdElf, and in the common tongue, the Black Pit."

"I think I prefer Moria," said Mene-mil.

"Do you?" asked Legolas. "You are a source of wonder to me, Mene-mil. You are so different from Gimli, and you seem to understand Elvish ways rather well for someone who has never lived among us. We are about to enter another mysterious place. The Old Forest is just ahead of us."

Horse and pony entered the forest with some trepidation, but since Arod trusted Legolas completely, he would almost always go wherever his master led him. Cemera loved Arod and as Arod followed Legolas, Cemera followed Arod most anywhere.

Since the war had ended, the Old Forest was settling back into its ancient ways, without fear of evil spirits that had abided there in prior times. As they made their way along the river called the Withywindle, Mene-mil was enjoying the scenery and the closeness of the air, which reminded him of the mines. It was very damp and somewhat stifling in the forest, and it did not seem at all wintry there, even though the leaves had fallen from the trees and the underbrush and carpeted the ground. They followed the river where it led them into the valley, but unlike the hobbits' experience some years before, it led them out again, and not into danger from any of the trees such as Old Man Willow. Legolas pointed out other strange-looking trees to Mene-mil, and explained how they had, at one time, been menacing to travelers wandering through the woods.

"I cannot understand how trees could be any danger to people," said Mene-mil. "It seems impossible because they are stationary things."

"Watch, then, and I will show you," said Legolas, and then he spoke some Elvish words to a large, very ancient willow tree in front of which they had stopped.

Before Mene-mil's disbelieving eyes, the tree moved its branches to surround the horses and riders, and thus trap them in its embrace, and then what seemed like two great amber-colored eyes opened suddenly between its limbs, and blinked twice. Then their gaze turned balefully upon the unwelcome visitors. A deep rumbling voice came from within the massive trunk of the tree.

"Who dares to trouble me? What do you want?" it thundered.

"Old Willow," said Legolas. "Do not fret. I am your friend, an Elf who is merely patrolling the area, and ensuring that everything is as it should be. I am sorry to have disturbed you. You have my leave to go back to sleep if you will."

The old tree sighed, closed its eyes, and released the prisoners from its grasp.

Legolas turned to Mene-mil. "I do feel badly for awakening him. I have done so only to show you that the trees are very much alive and aware in every sense of the word, and now this old one should be allowed to resume sleeping, or he will be very cranky when he wakes, and he is capable of doing great mischief when he has been upset. Let us be on our way, and leave him in peace".

"I stand in awe of your power to awaken trees," said Mene-mil. "How did you do that?" "I did not always have the power to do such things," replied Legolas, "but I was recently made an Elf-lord and given my own realm, and, as such, I was made an Eldar of my race, and I was given also some powers over other living creatures. Ordinary Elves do not possess this power. It comes only from being an Eldar. Having this power is still difficult for me to grasp sometimes. Most of the time, I feel that I am more human than Elf and would prefer to adopt human ways."

"If I had such a power as you do, I would feel most privileged," said Mene-mil. "Can you make rocks dance, and animals talk, too?"

Legolas laughed. "No, not quite" , he said. "I can only bring out that which is already there in certain living objects. For instance, I can make the river sing."

As they moved along the Withywindle River, Legolas spoke some Elvish words again, and the sound of the water turned to sweet song as it burbled over some rocks and flowed down a steep hill. Mene-mil laughed with delight.

"Some of the other Eldar have even greater abilities," said Legolas. "I know of one Elf who could bring a dead bird to life simply by singing to it" . He thought of Lindaril, and how she had unnerved him with her singing power, not only in reviving the little bird, but also in what she had done to him, by making him go against his own will. He shivered slightly at the memory, as he and Mene-mil emerged finally from the Old Forest.

"Legolas!" cried Mene-mil. "I just remembered that you said you would tell me a story from your old home of Mirkwood Forest that would give me nightmares! Will you please do so?"

"So I have promised," replied Legolas. "You did well to remind me. My thoughts of late have been preoccupied with other matters, so much so that more pleasant but less urgent promises have slipped my mind. Do you wish to hear my tale now?"

"Yes, please, if you don't mind," said Mene-mil.

"Very well, then, let us stop in this spot for a rest, and I shall give you some food, and tell you the story of the Forest of the Falling Trees."

The travelers stopped and made camp in a small glen in the forest. Legolas prepared some food for Mene-mil over a small fire, and as the root-man ate his meal, he listened with rapt attention to the Elf's story.

"When I was a small boy, living in Mirkwood Forest, I was told often not to wander too far away from the safe places near my home. But, as with so many young boys, curiosity proved too much to overcome, and so one day I gave in to it, wandered off, and became quite lost. Many areas of Mirkwood were very dangerous, as many strange beings and creatures, such as large and menacing spiders and other evil things inhabited it. Even as a young lad, however, I was gifted with a talent for using a bow and arrow with great accuracy, and I carried my weapons with me always. Things such as spiders were no matches for me, and I was able to fend them off whenever they chose to strike. However, on this day, as I was lost and I tried to find my way back to my own home, I became more and more entangled within the forest. My Elf-senses had left me temporarily, and as I entered an exceptionally deep, dark part of Mirkwood, I began to feel drowsy, and so I lay down to sleep under a large elm, within a group of stately looking trees. They did not seem to be menacing, but when I awoke to noises of an unknown kind, I saw a strange, unsettling thing, indeed."

"What was that?" asked Mene-mil. He shivered, looked around him, and drew his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

"There was a band of orcs moving through the forest," said Legolas. "I was not sure, but they may have been trying to track me, and if they had been tracking me, they would have tried to kill me. However, they were not what had frightened me. As I lay watching, I saw a tree pull itsElf up and out of the ground. It pulled its own roots right out of the earth, and it fell purposely on top of the orcs, crushing them to death. Then I saw it use some of its roots, as if they were long fingers, to claw the earth out of the hole it had made, and then the tree used them to reach up and pull itself upright again by grabbing hold of its top branches! It stuck itself back into the ground, then reached down and patted the earth and dug some of the roots back in. The long-fingered roots lay down and became still again, making a new shelter—a trap for unsuspecting creatures! I was alarmed, and glanced upward at the tree under which I was lying. I saw it wink at me, with a knothole that formed into a gleaming eye! It pointed out a direction to me with one of its branches. I followed where it pointed, and it turned out to be the way home! I ran away from that elm as fast as I could, I can tell you!"

"Did you make it home safe and sound, then?" asked Mene-mil.

"Yes, I did, of course, but strangely, after I told my family and friends about my adventure, and then tried to show them where it had happened, I could not find that same elm-grove ever again!"

"Perhaps those trees did not stay in one place for too long, but left to wander about and look for others that they could help," suggested Mene-mil. "They did not seem to be evil trees, and in fact, that elm turned out to be your benefactor."

Legolas laughed, and reached out to tousle the top of Mene-mil's head. "Yes, again your astuteness surprises me, Mene-mil. Perhaps they were looking out for the Elves of Mirkwood Forest. My old home did turn out to be quite an evil place, after all," he said. "It is nice to think of that. That there is some good within a place where there is also great evil."

"Well, that was quite a story," said Mene-mil, "but I do not think that it will give me nightmares, because it had a good ending."

Gradually, they made their way back to Moria, slowly moving along the road, each alone with his own thoughts for much of the journey. Finally, they could see the peaks of the Misty Mountains in the distance, and set the horses on a path toward them. As they climbed through the mountain pass, which took them past Zirak-zigil, Legolas looked up at the mountain-peak once more.

He sighed, and thought, "How I wish I had climbed up there when I last came this way and had the chance to do it. Then things may have turned out differently, and I may not have stumbled upon this thing which weighs so heavily upon me now."

Presently they arrived at the West Gates of Moria where the Sirannon bubbled its welcome, and they entered into the Halls. Inside, the multitude of halls were all lit up and looked to be busy hives of activity. Gimli had taken over as leader of the root-people in Mene-mil's absence. He was quite happy to assume this role. There had been much rebuilding since the two travelers had left for the Grey Havens. Gimli had organized the root-people to do a great amount of work in restoring the majestic columns that supported the ceilings, and they had done much in the way of repairing the other structures such as the stairs and bridges leading to the different levels. They were well on their way to making Moria look more like the great place it once had been. The magnificent hall of Balin's tomb had been cleared out, all of the Dwarves'skeletons had been properly buried and memorial plaques put up to honor them, and it was now set to become a holy place, with an air of great reverence about it, a fitting memorial for Balin and his Dwarves.

When Legolas and Mene-mil found Gimli, he was standing on the edge of a large open-pit mine on the first, or lowest level, lit by many torches, and was overseeing the hauling up of many buckets of mithril and silver. The root-people were swarming over the mine like ants on an anthill, working very rapidly.

"Legolas, my old lad!" Gimli called out, happy to see his friend return. "Come and see what we have done!"

Legolas could not help but smile, as miserable as he was feeling inside. He could see that Gimli was in his element. Mene-mil hailed Gimli as well, and far from the wary little man he was when they had first met him, he was very happy to have his adventure, and was now quite relieved to be second-in-command of Moria. He did not all mind relinquishing his lordship and the responsibility that it entailed, to Gimli.

After taking Legolas and Mene-mil on a tour to show them the impressive restoration work that they had begun, Gimli pulled Legolas aside to talk to him.

"Well, now, did you manage to find Lindaril and dispose of the jewel?" he asked the Elf.

"Alas, no, I did not," Legolas replied dejectedly. "I was too late in trying to catch up with her. The Silmaril is with me still. Now we must leave it here where we found it and let it come to its own fate in its own time." He looked very sad.

Gimli stared at him with eyes like those of a frightened deer. "No, no, no!" he stammered, horrified. "You said that there is a curse upon the jewel! It cannot come back here to rest, Legolas! We have done so much work in rebuilding Moria and there is yet much more to be done! My great wish is to restore the Khazad-dum Bridge to its former splendor. We may not be able to accomplish that with a terrible curse hanging over us! Not to mention that these poor little root people have suffered enough torment in their time, until now! No, no, no! Absolutely never must this accursed jewel come back into these mines! I forbid it! I would die first rather than bring more troubles upon these brave little people whom I now consider to be my kinsfolk. I will not have it, Legolas!"

Legolas sighed. "Alright, Gimli, I understand," he said sadly. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, and then he straightened his shoulders. "I do believe that it should be the responsibility of one of my people to dispose of this Silmaril. It is from the Elves' doing in the first place that all of the ills of the world have taken place. Let us say no more about it. I will take it back to Ithilorien with me and seek counsel from other wise folk for what to do with it. I will go to seek Aragorn's counsel also. I think I must leave now, Gimli and take the Silmaril away with me before any ill can here befall you."

The two friends looked at each other with understanding of each other's point of view, and they shook hands in agreement. They bade each other farewell, and Legolas paused, "Tell me, what has become of the ant lions? Are they still posing a danger here?" he asked.

"They still live in the mines," said Gimli, "but they do not like the lights, so as you can see, we have put up many torches and candles along the walls. We have also made wooden floors, which you will have noticed, and we will eventually pave over these again with stones. That will keep the beasts below ground in the lower depths where no one will be in danger of falling into their sinkholes. The ant lions need the sandy soil in which to burrow, and should be happy to stay below. As long as we are careful to stay out of their way, we should not come to harm from them. They will probably die from starvation if they cannot trap any more root-people to eat."

"They still have water to drink from the underground wells. Perhaps we should think about getting rid of them once and for all," said Legolas. "What do you think if we poison them? It would be a quicker death for them than starvation."

"Poison them?" asked Gimli. "How could we do that?"

"I will try to get some poison when I am in Minas Tirith," said Legolas. "The head of the Houses of Healing there should have some knowledge of poisons as well as medicine. If I can get it, I will bring some here once I have disposed of the Silmaril. I will leave you now, Gimli, and go to Gondor. It should be about six months' time before I can return here. If you do not see me after more than six months, then send a messenger to my home. But I will come back here, Gimli, with or without the poison for the ant lions. I promise you that".

Mene-mil thanked Legolas profusely for taking him on the journey to the Grey Havens, through the Shire and the Old Forest. He had been enchanted by all that he experienced. He and Legolas embraced, and Mene-mil found himself near tears at this time of parting from his new friend.

"Farewell, Legolas", he cried. "Please use your Elvish powers to keep yourself safe, and return to us as soon as you can. I am impatient for another adventure, and more of your stories."

Legolas laughed. "Can you stand hearing more stories from an Elf?" he asked. "Do they not bore you?"

"No," said Mene-mil. "There are people who live inside their own minds and rarely venture outside into the outdoors. Then there are those fearless, adventurous people who carve paths into the unknown and discover the rest of the world. I am the former and you are the latter. Do you know what I am trying to say?"

Legolas looked upon Mene-mil with affection, and hugged him. "Yes, I think I do, Mene-mil. I think I do understand you. But which is the better way in which to live? I wonder at that. Will you please look after Gimli for me? I hope to find all is well when I return."

Goodbyes were said all around, and the Elf took his leave, leaping onto Arod and galloping off toward Gondor.

17


	16. Chapter 16

16

The Council of Manwë

The Silmarillion: P. 62: Of the Silmarils: "Now Melkor, knowing that his devices had been revealed, hid himsElf and passed from place to place as a cloud in the hills --."

P. 63-64: "Then Melkor departed in shame -- but his heart was black with anger -- the Elves had seen him pass in wrath as a thundercloud."

On the morning of the meeting to take place in the White Hall Frodo and Bilbo had awakened early, and were standing on the balcony which encircled their rooms, trying to enjoy the view. They were feeling very much alone and out of their element, attending a meeting of the Valar and their servants, the Maiar. At length two Elves appeared and announced that the meeting was about to begin.

"Come, we will accompany you there, as we too are going to the council," said one of the Elves.

When they reached the White Hall, they saw that some representatives of the Maiar were already seated around a great oval table. Estë and Irmo were among them, and beckoned to Bilbo and Frodo to sit beside them. The two Valar could see that the hobbits looked very uncomfortable. Estë leaned toward Frodo.

"I am glad that you have decided to attend, Frodo," she whispered. "Your journey has brought you to Mt. Taniquetil at an opportune time. How are you coming along with the map-making, Bilbo?"

"Very well, thank you," Bilbo replied. "But tell me Estë, how is it that you and the others are already here?" he asked, puzzled. "We did not see anyone arrive, and we have been watching out the window all morning."

"Bilbo!" admonished Frodo "You make us seem like spies!"

Estë laughed. "The Valar have a way, if they so choose, of coming and going without being seen," she said. "I am sorry that you have been disappointed in not having been able to watch our arrival."

Bilbo blushed. He realized then that, of course, the Valar could transport themselves to wherever they wished without need of walking, if they so desired.

Manwë, who sat at the head of the table, stood up to call the meeting to order, and at that moment, Olórin entered the Hall, looking rather out of sorts. He was quite agitated and fumbled with his chair as he sat down. "My apologies for arriving in a late manner," he announced. His face was flushed as if he had been running.

Manwë nodded to him with a look of understanding and did not admonish him, and then began the meeting. "My friends and colleagues," he started, "Let me begin by introducing you to each other. I have asked that two representatives of each group of people living in Valinor attend this meeting. Thus we have Irmo and Estë of the Valar here with us, besides Varda and myself." As he swept his long, regal arm in their direction, Irmo and Estë rose and nodded to the others present. "Next, let me introduce Olórin and Eonwë of the Maiar." Both Maiar representatives rose, and Frodo noticed that Eonwë had an Elf-like appearance although he was bigger and more muscular, and was dressed in regal-looking clothing of green and gold. Manwë continued. "Then please meet Andaram and Tasaran of the Elves, who live in nearby Tirion. Lastly, I will introduce Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. They are hobbits of the Shire, of Middle-earth, newly arrived in these Undying Lands, and just beginning to get to know the rest of us." Manwë smiled down upon the two hobbits, who rose tentatively from their seats and felt as if everyone was staring at them. Then, Manwë began the meeting by talking about the reason for the council, which everyone knew. He asked that they forego a preliminary discussion, explaining that he wanted to get right to the subject and asked if anyone would like to speak first and make known their observations. Andaram stood up. He cleared his throat and then spoke.

"My Lord, one of the theories that my colleagues and I have discussed is that various particles of metal could have somehow found themselves in the Void above us, and are being held there by a magnetic force," he said.

"That is a plausible theory, Andaram," said Manwë, "but Varda and I know that the answer is not as benign as that. I do not wish to hold back any information from you, and so I will speak plainly without any fuss or protocol. It appears that the Vala Morgoth has returned from the Void. The belief that some day he would return has ever been in our minds, and that belief has now proved to be of some validity."

There were gasps from some of those seated around the table. Bilbo and Frodo stared at Manwë in horror. They had heard of Morgoth from Aulë.

"My Lord, how do you know that this is so? Is it indeed true?" asked Andaram in a voice that rang with terror.

"The cloud is not a real cloud," Manwë replied. "It is made up of many small pieces of a matter that is not a living thing, yet it is alive in some evil, twisted sense of the word. We know not of what substance it is made. It is very far away and it appears to us as a cloud from this distance. I cannot say yet whether it is a form of Morgoth's evil that has power to harm us, or whether it is but an apparition of his making, which in itself holds no power except to frighten the people of Valinor. Please remember that Morgoth's ability to take shape again was forever removed from him and his once-great power became diminished. For a long while yet, no harm should come to us, but I fear," and there was great sadness in his voice, "that we are sure to a form of his evil again at some time in the future."

"How do you know this is so, My Lord?" asked Andaram.

"Morgoth's hatred of us is great," Manwë replied. "He has carried it through all the ages that he has existed in the Void, but we do not yet know by what means he would be able to harm us, or even whether that would be possible. The fact that he has managed to find us again, and that he is making threats and exuding his particular form of hatred, is very worrisome to us."

Andaram and the other Elves took a few minutes to digest the news, and spoke in whispers among themselves. Then Andaram stood again and appealed to Manwë.

"We have some questions, My Lord," he said.

"Please feel free to ask me anything that you wish," said Manwë, trying to muster a smile for the Elf.

"Where is the real Morgoth? And what do you think he is going to do to Valinor?" asked Andaram.

Manwë then understood that the Elves had not fully comprehended the meaning of the threat against Valinor. He realized that it had been, perhaps, a mistake to have let the Elves and the two hobbits attend the council. He did not wish their lives to be affected by any feelings of distress or helplessness because of this.

"My friends," he said then, "Please be aware that Morgoth has no real shape. He appears to be but mere thought. The black cloud that you see above Valinor has been brought there somehow by him in order to frighten us, but it cannot do anything except hang in the sky, making us aware of its presence. We, the Valar, will attempt to do something to make it disappear so that it will not trouble our people further."

Andaram looked puzzled, and was about to say something else, but at this point, Olórin stood up to speak.

"Begging your pardon, My Lord Manwë," he said, "but we the Maiar have just now had a meeting prior to this among ourselves, and have pledged that we will try to rid Valinor of this threat. We believe that we can accomplish what no other force may do."

Frodo and Bilbo, who had been following the facts and ideas being discussed at the meeting in silence, both gasped in unison at the thought that their beloved Olórin may have to leave them again.

Manwë spoke. "Please do not upset yourselves, Master Hobbits," he said. "As Olórin has told you, the Maiar spirits have pledged their help to try and rid us of the cloud of Morgoth. They will decide how it is to be done, but collectively they have power greater than any other group on Valinor by virtue of their numbers alone. I have the utmost faith in them to come up with a solution."

Shortly after this, Manwë adjourned the meeting. Olórin, with concern showing in his weary face, led Frodo and Bilbo out of the Hall. There was a great buzz of conversation among the others who had been present.

Estë and Irmo came to seek out the hobbits right away.

"We hope that you are not too distressed by Manwë's news," said Estë. "If you wish, you may cut short your map-making expedition, and come straight home with us, if it would make you feel any safer."

"No, My Lady," replied Frodo, "Bilbo and I would prefer to continue with the expedition. We have already discussed it and have agreed that is what we wish to do."

"Very well," said Estë, looking upon the hobbits with love and concern for them. "We will bid you farewell for now. We will see you when you have finished your work and have come home to us."

"Goodbye, Estë, and may I say that we cannot thank you enough for your kindness," said Bilbo.

"Come, my dear hobbits," said Olórin. "I will take you to your rooms, and we will have a talk."

Olórin led Bilbo and Frodo back to Frodo's room, and he asked them to make themselves comfortable. Food, drink, and pipes were brought for them, and they all settled down for a long conversation. The hobbits would normally have looked forward with pleasure to this chance to have a long visit with Olórin, but because of the news they had heard at the council, they waited nervously for more bad tidings from the powerful Maia.

"Now, my dear friends," Olórin explained, "I have told you before who I really am and what I actually appear as in my true form. There are thousands more spirits such as I. We have all taken forms other than our own original flame-like embodiments. Of course, I was privileged to be made one of the Istari, a wizard with special powers, and by the grace of our masters, I rose to the top of my order. However, all of we Maiar spirits were created to serve our masters. While there are thousands of us, there are only fourteen of the Valar. There were originally fifteen, as Morgoth was one of them before he turned to evil ways. Collectively, we are able to do more than our masters in terms of pure might."

"Will you be safe? Is there any possibility that you could die?" asked Frodo. "You were lost to us once, remember? I could not bear it if you were to be lost again!"

"Frodo," whispered Olórin, "the last thing I would wish for is that you should upset yourself over this. Why do you think that I will be placing myself in danger? I have only said that we, the Maiar, have pledged ourselves to try to come up with a solution for ridding Valinor of the cloud of Morgoth. You do not know what we are intending to do. Please understand, in any case, that we cannot actually die, no matter what happens. We are immortal spirits. Some of the spirits have, in the past, been permanently extinguished, it is true, but it happened under dire circumstances, and only to lesser spirits than us, such as the Balrogs. Please do not worry about us. That is really all I can tell you for now."

"Well, I suppose that I am somewhat comforted by the reminder that you are immortal," said Frodo, and Bilbo nodded in agreement, taking Frodo's hand and squeezing it tightly.

Olórin smiled at them. "If nothing else, please remember that," he said. Then he rose to leave.

"Will we see you again before we go?" asked Frodo. "We were planning to leave here in the morning, and continue with our expedition to the west coast."

"I promise I will come to see you off," said Olórin. He bent, and kissed the top of each hobbit's head, after which he departed.

The next morning, Olórin was good to his word, and joined the hobbits for breakfast before they left Mt. Taniquetil.

"Do not choose to look at the black cloud of threat in the sky," he told them. "Look only at the ground beneath your feet, and choose your paths carefully, and at all times, be aware. This is my advice to you now."

After leaving Mt. Taniquetil, Bilbo and Frodo continued on their map-making adventure, choosing to follow the coastline of Valinor. Olórin had assured them that they would always have the protection of the Valar, no matter where they traveled in the Undying Lands.

"After all," he had told them, "the Valar have always seen to the safety of these lands and always will until the end of time." And they were reassured.

The two hobbits spent many more months exploring and visiting many places, although their enthusiasm for their chosen task had waned, for it is one thing to be told not to worry about something, and quite another thing to force oneself not to do so.

By the time they returned once more to their home on the Isle of Estë on Lake Lorellin, Bilbo and Frodo were fully familiar with the Undying Lands, from the Halls of Mandos, which they had only looked at from the outside, and then skirted warily around, to the White Tower of Manwë on Mt. Taniquetil, which was a fine place of beauty and majesty. Although the hobbits could have chosen to live anywhere that they wished in Valinor, they had decided to stay on the Isle of Estë, where Olórin had first brought them.

Of all of the Valar whom they had met, Frodo loved Estë the most. In his esteem, second only to her would have been Aulë the Smith, who was amusing, warm and welcoming to the hobbits. He felt that Mt. Taniquetil, where Olórin and Manwë lived, was too grand and too remote for him. It was on top of a mountain, and Frodo did not care for heights nor mountaintops. The hobbits were glad and somewhat relieved when they arrived back home in Lórien, although it was unusually quiet. They did not see another person when they docked the boat that they had used to paddle across the lake. Bilbo was not concerned, and went off to find a meal before starting to make finished copies of his maps. Frodo decided to go for a walk to try to find Estë, whom he found that he missed greatly since the Council of Manwë. She had been occupying his thoughts of late. He was walking through one of her most beautiful private gardens when he found her, sitting on a stone bench by a small pond, beside a willow tree, and there was an Elf-maiden with her. As Frodo slowly approached them, Estë turned toward him with her blue gaze and soft smile. The Elf-maiden's back was to him.

"Dear Frodo," said Estë, as he drew closer to them, "welcome home." She smiled her radiant smile, washed in the soft blue light shining from her eyes. "I would like you to meet a new arrival from Middle-earth. This is Lindaril."

Lindaril stood then, and turned to greet Frodo. They reached out to shake each other's hands.

"Lindaril, please meet my dear friend, Frodo Baggins, recently of the Shire," said Estë.

Frodo and Lindaril then met each other's gaze, and Frodo thought that he had never seen such a beautiful girl. From her raven-black hair, to her pale ivory skin, and slender, tiny figure, she was perfect. There was a compelling sadness that shone from her violet-blue eyes, which held him in their depths. He clasped her tiny, cool hand in his, and it felt as soft as a young fawn's coat.

"I am very pleased to meet you," he whispered, feeling that the words were inadequate.

Lindaril was drawn to the gentle touch of his hand and the shy sound of his voice.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, too," she said, and the sound of her voice rang in his ears like the love calling of a nightingale in the dear woods of home.

9


	17. Chapter 17

17

Homecoming

A/N: It always seemed that Legolas, more than any other "modern," or fourth-age Elf, had an affinity for behaving as a man.

This chapter is rated M for non-explicit sexual activity.

When Legolas arrived back in Ithilorien, it had been fully six months since he and Gimli had set out from Minas Tirith after first meeting Lindaril. It had been November when he left, and it was now May. The past winter had not been very harsh in Ithilorien, which was a merciful thing, as winters can often be extreme in lands that have recently suffered wars. He had noticed the green pastures of the Shire upon passing through that country in January, but he was not prepared for the glory of Ithilorien, which welcomed him with the beauty of spring.

Cherry trees were in bloom with white and pink blossoms, and gave off sweet fragrance, as did the lilacs, and the many fruit trees. Great swaths of flowers drifted through the woods, from narcissi and trilliums, to niphredil and elanor. The water in the brooks ran fresh and clear as it tinkled over the rocks and stones glittering in the replenishing sunshine. Legolas breathed deeply and inhaled the scents of home, and opened his ears to the sounds of spring. He turned Arod in the direction of his house, and led the horse toward the stables.

With a deep sigh, Legolas dismounted, and stroked Arod's smooth white nose. "We have had a long journey, you and I," he said. "Now we must rest. I will go and find you a groom, as soon as I take these bags from your back. I must find a safe place for the burden that you have carried all the way from Moria to the Grey Havens and back. We have been very lucky, indeed, to have had no ill befall us through all our long travels."

Arod nudged Legolas's cheek in reassurance, as if to say, "All is well, Master," and the Elf then turned to go in search of a groom. At the precise moment he turned, he almost bumped into Fingalas, his cook and housekeeper, who had seen him arrive, and who had run in excitement to the stables in order to be the first one to greet him.

"My Lord," she said, out of breath. "Welcome home. We have all missed you terribly."

She noticed the change in him. He looked older. His face was drawn, and carried a worried look that had not been there before. He seemed thinner, also, as if something had been wearing him away. The look that was in eyes was different from the carefree look she remembered, and his demeanour had changed with it. He seemed almost vulnerable.

"Have you, Fingalas?" he asked. He took her hands in his, a gesture of intimacy that surprised her. He looked at her closely. He held her hands in his tight grip, and with a sense of urgency.

"I must put away a load that I have been carrying," he said to her, "and then I shall join you in the house. Would you mind preparing something for me to eat? I have not eaten proper food for months, and now feel the need for something to sustain me. A great weariness has come upon me, and I almost did not come home straight away. I had intended to stop at Minas Tirith first, but found that I did not have the strength to go there as I had planned."

Fingalas looked at him, her face bearing a worried frown, replacing the expression of joy that had been there when she first noticed his arrival. She pressed his hands together in her own. They felt cold in her warm grasp. "My Lord," she said with much concern, "I have prepared a meal for you already. When you have put away your load, you may come in and have it. And, if you wish, I would be most pleased to join you."

Then Fingalas turned on her heel and went back into the house. She was glad that Legolas could not see her face as she walked out of the stables. She felt very emotional, not only from the sight of her beloved master, as he looked to be in a troubled state, but also from the way in which he had spoken to her. He seemed in need of her, in a way that he never had before. Of course, she had been in love with him for years, and he had seemed never to notice her, but he was always somewhat haughty and remote. The haughtiness and the remoteness now seemed to have gone away. She was both overjoyed by his familiarity with her, and somewhat saddened by the change in him, at the same time.

After a few days, when Legolas was refreshed, and feeling stronger, he called Fingalas into his private room. Never before had he wished for any private space for himself, but since he had returned from his journey to Moria, he had wanted to be alone, and had requested that no one enter his room without first asking his permission. He had left the Silmaril in its wrapping in the stables during the first night that he had spent at home, but had since moved it into his bedroom. He felt this would be a safer place in which to keep it. Fingalas knocked on the new door of his room, which Legolas had put in just the day before. There had never been a door to his room. He bade her enter.

"I must ride to Minas Tirith soon," he told her. "It is regarding a matter of importance about which I must seek the advice of King Elessar."

"Very well, My Lord," Fingalas replied. "Would you like me to prepare a carry-all with some of your clothing and belongings?"

"No, it is not necessary for you to do that," he said. "But I wished to ask you if you would like to accompany me there."

Fingalas heart almost stopped. Legolas had never before asked her to go anywhere with him. She had been living in Minas Tirith when she had first met him, and had pleaded with him to take her to Ithilorien along with the Elves who were to follow him. Since then, she had been happily running his household. Gradually, she had come to love him, but felt that this love would always remain unrequited.

"I would like nothing better," she replied in a meek voice.

"I am glad to hear that," he said, smiling at her. "If you would help me to prepare, then, we can leave as soon as we are both ready."

Fingalas helped him to change into riding apparel, and then braided his long hair as he sat, silently pondering the fate of the Silmaril. Fingalas could see that he was distracted, and did not speak to him as she worked on his hair, which was very long and silky, and which he could not braid by himself. As she busied herself with it, Legolas absent-mindedly reached up and moved a strand of Fingalas' hair away from his face, where it had been hanging. He moved his hand up to tuck the hair behind her ear, when he inadvertently touched the top part of her ear, and then he palpated it with more attention. He looked at it, and was surprised to see that it was a rounded ear, as humans possess, and was not the pointed ear of an Elf.

"You are human," he said in a shocked voice.

"Yes," Fingalas said, blushing very red. "Did you not know?"

"But did you not tell me that you were an Elf, years ago, when you asked me to bring you to Ithilien?" he asked. He cast his mind back to when he had first met her.

Years ago, after the War, and before Aragorn, the present King of Gondor, had made Faramir, his steward, a prince, and had given him Ithilien to be his own, and before he had given Legolas a part of South Ithilien in which to establish his realm of Elves, Legolas had met Fingalas in the Houses of Healing, in Minas Tirith. She had been working there as a healer, and had been trained by an older woman named Ioreth. They were tending to the sick and wounded when Legolas had gone there to visit his friends Merry and Eowyn, who had both been wounded in battle. He had been discussing with them his plans to move the Elves who were exiled from Mirkwood and Lothlorien, when Fingalas had approached him and asked him if she could join the exiles. He had been surprised that she wanted to leave Minas Tirith and her work there, but she told him that she had personal reasons for so doing, and that she had originally come to Gondor from Lothlorien. He had agreed to let her come with him, believing that she was an Elf, and thinking that she would perhaps feel more at home in an Elvish colony. She had promised to contribute to the new forest realm by way of her healing skills. She had insisted that she was a superior cook and housekeeper, a claim that had proven to be true. He had not taken very much notice of her before now, because he had been too busy with his work and his travels with Gimli to be bothered with a love interest. They had traveled so much that he barely stayed in one place long enough to form any kind of relationship with a woman, although plenty of women had thrown themselves at him wherever he went.

He looked Fingalas gently in the eyes. "Why did you not tell me that you were a mortal woman?" he asked.

"Oh, Legolas," she said apologetically, "I am sorry, now, more than you know, to have deceived you. It was so long ago, and I had forgotten that you initially thought that I was Elvish. Please do not think less of me now. I could not bear it." Ashamed, and thinking that she had fallen out of favour with him, she buried her face in her hands.

"It is no matter," he said, putting his arms around her. "You know that King Elessar, who is mortal, of course, is married to an Elf-princess, and they are very happy together. There is nothing save permission from the Valar to prevent the like from happening once more."

He took his arms away, and then said, "Fingalas, do you realize that you have just called me "Legolas"? You have never called me by only my first name before. It has always been "My Lord" this, and "Sir" that, as if I am pompous and vain and needed that recognition."

Fingalas blushed. "It always seemed to me that was what you wanted," she said, "since you never once asked me not to speak to you that way. You always have been very formal with me. Do you realize that you have just spoken to me of marriage?"

"Between Elf and mortal, yes," he replied. "It is something that is not easily done. Permission to marry must be obtained, and may, perhaps, never be given. There have been only three unions of mortal and Elf in history: that of Beren and Lúthien, then of Tuor and Idril, and lastly, of course, of Aragorn and Arwen."

"Is this a subject that fascinates you, My Lord?" asked Fingalas.

"Oh, is it "My Lord" again, and not "Legolas"? He asked.

"Which would you prefer?" asked Fingalas. She could feel her heart flutter because he was teasing her.

"That depends," said Legolas, on whether or not you can say that you love me."

Fingalas' blush was profuse, spreading down to her chest. "I - I do not know how I should answer that," she stammered. Was he still teasing her?

"This is a time for being truthful," he said, his expression grave.

She felt her heart pounding now. Truthful? She would have to be truthful or this moment would pass, and she might lose him forever.

"Then," she said, meeting his gaze, "I shall have to say, yes. Not only yes, but that I have loved you for a very long time." 'There', she thought. 'I have said it.'

He sighed, and looked very serious. "I have been a fool not to notice it before," Legolas told her. "Do you still wish to accompany me to Minas Tirith? I have taken a chance in asking you to come with me. I wish to get to know you better, but it seems as if I am always traveling. I am asking you now to take a chance as well. I cannot yet say that I love you in return. I do not know you well enough, but I think that if we make this journey together, that I will get to know you, and something within me compels me to do that."

"Of course, yes, I will come with you, Legolas," she said. She melted into his arms. His face bore a gentle expression, but she could not fathom his thoughts. She did not care. Her arms wrapped themselves around his back. "So thin he is, yet he is strong," she thought, and closed her eyes. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. "His lips are soft," she thought, and returned his kiss with passion. His hands sought the fastenings of her dress. Hers found his clasps and buttons, his ties and laces, and undid them with the dexterity of one who is familiar with serving another.

They were both as in a fever now, panting and perspiring, clutching and stroking at each other's hair and flesh, their arms and legs moving in a frenzied tangle of limbs as they fell back together upon his bed. Afterward, she lay beside him and gazed at him, savouring the glorious sight of his form as if it might be the last time she would see him this way.

"Gods, but he is beautiful," she thought. "There is no one else in the world like him. I do not deserve him."

When they arrived in Minas Tirith, King Elessar and Queen Arwen welcomed them with much warmth. Legolas introduced Fingalas to his old friends, reminding them that she had lived in Minas Tirith in the past, and had worked in the Houses of Healing. After the two guests had been shown to their rooms, Aragorn came to see Legolas. He embraced the Elf in a gesture of friendship, and then sat down to have a talk with him.

"Legolas, I am somewhat surprised at you," he said. "The last time I saw you, I thought you were smitten with our little Elf-maiden, Lindaril, and now you seem to have thrown her over and taken up with a mortal woman who had left my household for yours years ago!"

Legolas sighed. "It is a long story, Aragorn. I have much to tell you, in fact."

"Tell me, what have you done with Lindaril? We all miss her singing very much around here," asked Aragorn. "Our dinners are not the same since she left us."

Legolas then told his friend about his long journey with Gimli, and how Lindaril had followed them into Rohan. He asked about the poor Rohan people that he and Gimli had sent to Minas Tirith, and he expressed concern especially for Elspeth and Enna. Aragorn did not know what had happened to the refugee men, but he said that he thought that Elspeth and Enna were still resting in the Houses of Healing. Legolas explained everything that had happened between himself and Lindaril, and how she had left for the Grey Havens, and had departed to the Undying Lands.

Aragorn was very concerned about Lindaril, and felt badly for Legolas. "I did not know that she was ill. In mind as well as body, it seems."

"That is not all," said the Elf. "The worst part of the story I have yet to tell you. A most wondrous chapter, but perhaps the most dangerous one."

He then went on to tell Aragorn about how he and Gimli had found the Silmaril, and the new race of root-people in Moria. Aragorn was astounded to hear about them. He was amazed that a new species of people had been discovered, and also that a Silmaril of Fëanor had been found. He knew the history of the Silmarils very well.

"I cannot believe my ears that you have found the Silmaril that Maedhros had cast away into the earth!" he exclaimed in wonder. "It will take a while for me to properly digest all of this news! How do you know that the root-people, as you call them, are trustworthy, and not an evil manifestation of Morgoth that will yet harm us in his absence?"

"No, no, rest assured, Aragorn, that they are trustworthy," said Legolas. "Their leader, Mene-mil, has traveled all the way from Moria to the Grey Havens with me and back again. I have come to know him well. I feel in my heart that he is sound. It is the Silmaril that worries me. I feel that it still carries Fëanor's curse of old, although nothing ill has yet befallen me. I have brought it here, as I had wished to seek your counsel on what is to be done with it."

"Of course, we will keep it deep in the vaults of the city," said Aragorn. "It will do no harm there, nor come to any."

"I do not know that there is any safe place on Middle-earth for this jewel," said Legolas. "It troubles me deeply, and I believe that there is only one answer for the problem of what to do with this thing."

"What is that, my friend?" asked Aragorn.

"I should sail to Valinor with it, myself," replied Legolas. "But if I do take it there, then I shall never be able to return to Middle-earth."

"Would you do that, Legolas, and leave behind the woman that you love?"

Legolas looked surprised. "Do you mean Fingalas? He asked. "I do not know that I love her," he said, "but I know that she loves me. It would perhaps have been better if I had left her alone, and not brought her here with me. Something came over me that night in the stables when I returned home and saw her there. At the time, I thought it would be fairer to her to let her acknowledge her feelings for me. I would hurt her very badly if I left her alone now. Yet I must make a decision. I must think long and hard about whether I should stay and make a life with her, or whether or not I should take the Silmaril and leave Middle-earth forever."


	18. Chapter 18

18

The Council of the Valar

The Silmarillion: P. 89: Of the Sun and Moon and the Hiding of Valinor: "But Mandos said: 'To me shall Fëanor come soon'.

P. 100: Of the Return of the Noldor: "Fëanor bade them halt; for his wounds were mortal, and he knew that his hour had come."

" -- Then he died -- so fiery was his spirit that as it sped his body fell to ash, and was borne away like smoke;"

" -- neither has his spirit left the halls of Mandos."

The day arrived when Estë found herself in search of Frodo and Lindaril. The two had become inseparable since Lindaril's arrival. Estë wished to speak with them both, and thought that she would find them together. When Lindaril had first arrived on Estë's Isle from Tol Eressea, she had been suffering from a mysterious illness of which she did not know the cause, and Estë had immediately begun to nurse her. Estë had told Lindaril that the sickness was crab-like in nature, a thing within her that had many tentacles that it would use to infiltrate every organ in her body. At the time that Lindaril had met Frodo, she had had several treatment sessions with Estë, and was not at the time near death, but had still been very frail. Now, she was almost fully cured, the crab reduced to a tiny, shriveled thing that would soon disappear. She and Frodo enjoyed spending much time together now that Lindaril was healthy. They played games regularly, and thus Estë decided to look for them in the golif meadow within Irmo's gardens.

She came upon them as they were laughing about something that had amused them. Frodo was leaning on his golif stick, his shoulders shaking with laughter, and Lindaril was bent over, setting a ball in place on the turf. Estë approached them; marveling at their friendship as she did so.

Lindaril had lived a long time with the memories of the horror she had witnessed that was the destiny of many of the Elves. Most of them had lived long, sad lives compared to those of mortals, and had been witnesses to acts of terrible treachery, cruelty and violence. Most of the Elves who had sailed to Valinor had seen endless battles and much death. They had witnessed the torment and deaths of their families and friends, and had first-hand experience of the evil of the Dark Lords Morgoth and Sauron in the years spent on Middle-earth during the worst of its history. Unlike humans, Elves were not able to escape the agonies of their memories by dying. Lindaril, who was descended from the Fëanorions, the most terrible and violent of the Elf-clans of old, had had to live most of her life alone with not only her own dark memories of her parents'demise to haunt her, but also the tales that were told to her of the years of war and destruction that were the legacy of her ancestors.

Lindaril had all alone escaped from a lonely life of fear, existing hidden in the dark forests of the world, making her way slowly with her dark secrets ever haunting her, down rivers and through desolate lands, until she finally reached the country of Rohan, where she had eventually found the King and his sister, who had taken her into their homes for awhile. They became her friends, but their country had been suffering many woes since the war had ended, and there was a new disease that came to them on a fell wind, that brought with it more death, terror and confusion. And, so often when a country is brought to its knees, the weather turns against it also, and Rohan found itself lashed with foul weather in the form of cold, cruel winters, storms and floods. If that weren't enough, more of its people had been felled by the plague that swept across its lands, killing even more of the few who had been spared. The poor population of Rohan had become almost decimated by its recent ill fortune, and as Lindaril did not wish to burden her benefactors further, one day she decided to travel further south to Gondor.

In Gondor, accompanied by her lute and her songs, Lindaril formed another friendship with King Elessar and Queen Arwen. Gondor, as well as Rohan, had suffered hardship since the war, but it had the benefit of being in a warmer climate, and it had managed to escape the plague. Also, under the skilful leadership of King Elessar, Gondor had weathered the post-war storm better than had Rohan, which was a more sparsely populated and desolate country. Lindaril had found friendship with Arwen, but after hearing about the separation that Arwen and Aragorn had endured before they were able to come together as man and wife, Lindaril did not wish to become a burden to them by spending too much time in their company.

After discovering that she was suffering from an unknown illness, Lindaril had at first learned some medical treatments from the healers in the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith, so that she could try to cure herself. She threw herself into her music to try to forget her troubles, and she enjoyed singing her songs for other people. By chance, she had met Legolas, and had become attracted to him instantly. She felt that she and he had much in common, since they had both originally come from the same place. He, however, was of great strength and vitality, whereas she was weak and frail. Things had gone badly between them, and so, her spirit finally broken and her health deteriorating, Lindaril had known that it was time for her to leave Middle-earth.

Upon arriving in the Undying Lands, Lindaril had immediately started to feel somewhat better. After undergoing Estë's healing sessions, she was now almost back to her normal self once again, and meeting Frodo had been perhaps the one thing that she needed in order to feel happy. She fell in love with Frodo, and felt that he, perhaps more than anyone, was her true soul mate.

"Hello, my two friends!" Estë called to them as she drew near. "I see that you are both enjoying this fine morning!"

Frodo and Lindaril turned to greet her.

"Will you join us in a game of golif, Estë?" Frodo asked, although he was not sure that he wanted her to join them. At the moment, he was winning against Lindaril, but the last time he had played the game with Estë, she had soundly beaten him.

To Frodo's relief, Estë said, "I am sorry, Frodo. I thank you for asking, but I cannot play today. I was looking for you both to tell you that Irmo and I, along with the other Valar, have been called to another council meeting on Mt. Taniquetil. Irmo and I must be leaving right away".

"Did you wish for us to go with you?" asked Frodo.

"No, Frodo, this time Manwë has asked that only the Valar attend".

Frodo was not sorry that he would not be going. The last meeting had unnerved him greatly. Also, he did not care for heights or mountaintops, yet he rather wished that Lindaril could have seen the grandness of Manwë'sTower, and of Tirion.

Estë continued. "Manwë has called this meeting very suddenly. It will be held today, and we must fly there immediately."

Frodo became alarmed. "May I ask one thing? Has there been more news of the cloud of Morgoth?"

"I am sorry, Frodo, but I do not know why Manwë has called us to this new council. If it is possible, we will tell you about it when we return".

Irmo then joined her. The two Valar bade Frodo and Lindaril goodbye. Then they disappeared from sight in a sudden gust of wind.

"I am not sure I will ever get used to that", said Frodo.

"To what, my dear?" asked Lindaril.

"To see the Valar flying off like that", replied Frodo. "They can just disappear before your eyes because they move so rapidly that you cannot see them moving at all. It is very unnerving".

"I can move like that, too", said Lindaril, laughing suddenly.

"You cannot!" exclaimed Frodo, grabbing her hands.

"Watch me!" she cried, breaking free of Frodo's grasp. Then she turned and ran like the wind across the meadow. Frodo caught his breath, and then ran after her as fast as he could. Under Estë's cure, Frodo had grown much more and now stood at five feet six, a height that was an inch taller than Lindaril's. Eventually he caught her as she tired and slowed down. He grabbed her around the waist, and they both fell to the ground, laughing like children.

At the same time that Frodo and Lindaril were playing in the meadow, the meeting of the Valar was underway, without much preamble.

"My Lords and Ladies of the Valar", Manwë spoke gravely. "I have summoned you at this time to tell you of a new development concerning the wishes of Morgoth. He has contacted me by thought", Manwë continued. "Once again, he has entered my mind without my permission, and has informed me of his intent to destroy Valinor. This time, he has shown me how he plans to do it".

All of the Valar were silent as they listened to the grim news. They prepared their minds to receive the frightening image that Manwë projected into them. It was of their world imploding upon itself, in a cataclysmic crushing of sand and water, rock and flame. Everyone and everything disappeared within the pressure as the charred remains of all spiralled toward a great, sucking black hole, a vacuum of nothingness.

Manwë then spoke to them. "Have you all seen now the vision of our destruction the way that he showed me? No words were spoken by him, yet I understood clearly his intent".

The Valar indicated that they had seen it. All was silent as each Vala absorbed the horrible vision and its meaning.

Irmo then spoke. "I do not understand such a force that could crush the world", he said.

"Nor do I", Manwë replied. "I have not before seen such a thing. Eru has not conceived of this, to my knowledge. It may be but an imaginary force that Morgoth has envisioned. Morgoth's hatred of us is such that he wishes for our complete destruction. He is unable to take any form, but his will is strong. However, I do not believe that there is anything that exists that can do what he has shown us".

Mandos asked, "Do you know now if the cloud that hangs over us is indeed a manifestation of Morgoth himself?"

Manwë nodded. "Yes, I believe it to be so. He cannot form himself into the shape of a solid thing, but he seems to float as particles, which are seen as a black cloud floating in the air above our lands. How he is to effect the total destruction of our world is not known to me, but I fear there is much power in his thought. Accepting his visions into my own mind was almost too much to bear, as he used a force more powerful than my resistance. I tried to keep him out with all my might, yet it was not enough to prevent the intrusion".

Mandos then said, "He must be resisted. Morgoth has always coveted power and riches. Can we not give him something that would satisfy his lust, and that would entice him to go and leave us in peace? I am hoping that he would not have shown us his intent to destroy Valinor if he was not willing to barter with us for something that he truly wants. Otherwise, if he wished only for our annihilation, then he would have already destroyed us, if he were capable of so doing. He would not have shown you that vision of destruction beforehand. He would have surprised us".

Manwë replied, "Morgoth has possessed power and riches in the past, but they did not satisfy him. He was bent on destruction then, and he has not lost that particular lust, it seems. In the past he hated the Elves and wished to destroy their race. Now, it is we, his brethren the Valar that he wishes to destroy. I do not know that there is anything that we could give him which would turn him from his evil intent. I believe that he showed us what he truly desires in order to torture us with worry before he destroys us".

"Perhaps we can turn him from his intent", said Mandos. "He had always lusted after the Silmarils of Fëanor. Can we not give the one that we have, the Silmaril of Earendil, back to him in return for his promise to leave us in peace?"

All of the Valar were silent with their own thoughts for a moment, and then Manwë spoke.

"The Silmarils are lost, except for the one that you have named, which Earendil carried. I do not think that Morgoth would accept this one jewel and then agree to go and leave us in peace. It seems too small and simple a bargaining device. However, I shall try to contact him and ask this question. If you will excuse me, I will go now into a quiet chamber, and I will try to will him to enter my thought".

Manwë then rose from the table and left the Hall. While he was gone, the other Valar talked among themsElves of various ideas. Aulë, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, spoke directly to Mandos. "You could allow Manwë to bring Fëanor back to life, Mandos, so that he could make a large enough quantity of the Silmarils to satisfy Morgoth. I feel that you must resurrect Fëanor so that he can accomplish this task".

"No, that is out of the question!" said Mandos emphatically. "Fëanor is not to be reborn before his time of judgment. You know that he had fallen into evil and caused such destruction in the world that its effects are still felt to this day. Ages ago I had said that all of the works of the Noldor must be destroyed in order for us to have peace. I said that Fëanor's spirit must dwell in the Halls of Mandos until Judgment Day, at which time he must repent of his misdeeds. To change that decision now would bring chaos to the world once more".

"But he could give Morgoth what he wants", said Aulë. "If Manwë can convince Morgoth to accept the Silmarils, and then leave us, Valinor would be saved, and we would be able to deal with the potential chaos that may ensue that would be Fëanor's doing. If Valinor is to be destroyed, then what do your rules about resurrection and repentance matter?"

Mandos and Aulë glared at each other. The will of each was strong.

"Could we not go to retrieve the lost Silmarils from Middle-earth?" asked Estë. "Morgoth may believe that they were lost forever; however, if we could tell him that we have found them, then he may want them so badly that he would be willing to barter with us".

"The power is not with us any longer to go to Middle-earth and look among its lands and seas for the Silmarils", replied Ulmo, the Vala of Waters. "Since Eru removed our world from theirs, and forbade us to meddle in the affairs of Middle-earth, we are prevented from going there".

"Let us wait until Manwë returns", said Mandos. "If we find out if Morgoth has accepted our offer, there will be no need to put any other plan into effect".

The Valar waited until Manwë returned. His face was inscrutable as he resumed his seat at the table.

"I did successfully contact Morgoth", he remarked. "He said that he will accept our proposition and will spare us".

The other Valar cheered uproariously.

"There are two conditions, however", cried Manwë over the din, and when the clamor died down, he continued, "He said that we must give him seventy thousand Silmarils. Seventy thousand, and no less! He does not care how we are to achieve this, but he will accept no less. That is the first condition. The second is that he demands that we resurrect Fëanor from the Halls of Mandos, and deliver the Elf to him at the same time as the jewels. Although I have agreed to Morgoth's terms in order to save Valinor, I will tell you now that I will not sacrifice Fëanor. I will not sacrifice any of the people of Ëa despite the evil they may have done in the past".

"How, then, will you be able to effect delivery of the Silmarils, yet not of Fëanor?" asked Estë.

"I know not how I shall do it at this time, but I promise that I will devise a plan", said Manwë. "One thing I must ask all of you. Do not let anyone know of this bargain, or things may go greatly amiss. I will inform the Maiar myself, but I do not want the Elves to know anything about this further threat".

The Valar promised him, and each made ready to leave the table.

"Morgoth cannot be trusted, as you know", said Mandos to Manwë. "His word means nothing. You must not believe him".

"He said that if we achieve that which he proposed, then he will take the jewels and Fëanor and go away forever in such a way that we will know we are safe", said Manwë.

"You cannot believe that", said Mandos. "We must try to destroy him before he destroys us".

"We cannot", replied Manwë. "He predicted that we would try to do that, and when he sees us coming for him, he said that he will unleash a great power that will annihilate us. I cannot take the chance that he speaks the truth about this matter".

"Then Fëanor will have to be brought back to life, first, in order to make the Silmarils", said Aulë, "and then to release to Morgoth".

"I would rather come up with another solution. Perhaps we should bring forward another plan, one that we all have been thinking about, but which we have avoided discussing", said Mandos.

"I know what is in your mind, and I would not do what you are proposing", said Manwë.

"What is this other plan?" asked Aulë, who seemed not to have been aware of it.

"It is to send out the Maiar spirits en masse to try to destroy the cloud", said Mandos.

Manwë shook his head, and held up his hand to try to stop Mandos, to no avail.

"How many of them would it take to do this, do you think?" asked Aulë.

"It would take all of them, according to Olórin", replied Manwë, his tone solemn. "And all of them may be lost".

"No!" cried Aulë. "We cannot sacrifice the Maiar so readily! We would be sending them to their end, as sure as the doom that awaits us! There is only one thing to do, Mandos! Fëanor must be resurrected. I would help him to recraft the jewels, and I could watch over him to make sure he does not cause any trouble".

Mandos spoke, and he was not happy. "If you all wish it, and My Lord Manwë agrees, then it shall be done", he said. "But we do not know if Fëanor will agree to help us. If he refuses, then we are lost. One thing is certain. Fëanor must never find out about our agreement to sacrifice him to Morgoth".

The Valar continued speaking about their plans, and when they could say no more, they dispersed gradually to their own homes.

8


	19. Chapter 19

19

The Dream

The Silmarillion: P. 62: Of The Silmarils: " -- and Mandos said to him -- in that time take counsel with thysElf, and remember who and what thou art. But after that time this matter shall be set in peace and held redressed, if others will release thee."

When the Valar returned from the meeting on Mt. Taniquetil, it had been decided that Mandos would go to speak with Fëanor's spirit in the Halls of Mandos. It was of the utmost importance to find out if Fëanor had spent his time since his death in the First Age reflecting upon the darkness that had invaded his mind and caused him to commit so many wrongdoings. Mandos wished to discover if he had repented of his misdeeds.

Aulë accompanied Mandos to the Halls of Mandos in the southwest. They sought Fëanor's spirit in the Halls immediately. He had died in the First Age of Middle-earth when the Lord of the Balrogs, with fire and many sword-cuts, had mortally wounded him. Although his sons had borne him away from the battle, he had died from many terrible wounds. At the time of death, his body had fallen into ashes, and his fiery spirit left it and flew to the Halls of Mandos. In the Halls, he had no form, but his spirit still appeared as black smoke. Mandos went to speak to him alone.

"Fëanor!" he boomed. "I summon you to come forward!"

"Why do you call me?" Fëanor's spirit replied, with reluctance.

"You have been summoned, Fëanor, for a purpose," replied Mandos, "but before I tell you that purpose, I must know the state of your mind."

Black smoke curled around Mandos.

"I do not understand your meaning," said Fëanor.

"I wish to know your thoughts about yoursElf, your deeds and your fate," said Mandos. "If you have emotions, what are they?"

"I have had long to reflect on the past," replied Fëanor, "and there still burns in my heart a desire. As of old, the desire was to craft works of great beauty, and once my greatest works, the Silmarils, had been stolen from me by the Dark Lord, my desire was to track down that thief, destroy him, and retrieve my jewels. In the thrall of this desire, I had overstepped a moral boundary, and I committed some grievous sins. For the acts of callous murder that I committed, I am truly sorry. Every day that has passed since my own death, I have grieved for the things that I have done. From these Halls I have looked down, and I have seen the terrible destruction that has occurred over the ages that had been caused by my actions."

Mandos scoffed. "Your words sound fair, like those that would be told to me by one who thinks they are what I wish to hear, however different they may be within that person's mind. What now is your true desire?" he asked Fëanor.

"It is to amend, in some way the woes that exist because they were of my making," Fëanor replied.

"It is difficult for me to believe in your sincerity," said Mandos, "but if you do speak the truth, then I can tell you of a way that you can help us."

Irmo and Estë had returned to Lake Lorellin, where Irmo had been following the conversation between Fëanor and Mandos in his mind. He and Mandos were brothers, who possessed the ability to read each other's thoughts. He relayed to Estë every word that was spoken between Mandos and Fëanor in the Halls of Mandos, which lay many hundreds of miles to the south.

"It is interesting to note that we have Lindaril here with us, and that she is the last of the descendants of Fëanor," said Irmo.

"Is it possible that Fëanor knows of her existence?" asked Estë.

"No, he does not yet know anything about her," replied Irmo. "He has been permitted by Mandos only to know certain things, and never anything that could cause him any feeling of unrest."

"Lindaril is certainly a dark horse, is she not, Irmo?" Estë mused. "She is truly dispossessed. Her life has been a long, lonely struggle, with no home to call her own. But her grandmother, unknown to her, is here with us. She is so fragile yet that her identity must remain unknown. The strangest thing is that Lindaril somehow developed the worst of the inner body's diseases, a cancer of the organs, which should have been impossible for her to contract. I have managed to shrink it, but I was mystified by the fact that she, an Elf and part-Maia, would suffer from this disease at all. It was a strange-looking thing - all black and smoky - coal-like, in fact."

"Ah, it sounds as if she had the fiery spirit of her forbears," said Irmo. "It seems to have burned inside her, in a different way than it had burned in Fëanor. His was projected outward, and caused him to commit grievous acts of deceit and murder. In Lindaril, it turned inward, and seems to have threatened her life."

Estë gave Irmo a stricken look. "I wonder if it had been placed in her mother by her grandmother in an attempt to kill her, and Lindaril has inherited it?" said Estë. "It would seem Lindaril was very fortunate to have come here when she did. She could not have known that had she stayed on Middle-earth, we may not have been able to help her, and then she may have succumbed to her disease."

"Since contact is forbidden now between the two worlds of Middle-earth and Valinor," mused Irmo, "and the straight path may be used only to travel in one direction - from Middle-earth to Valinor - we are unable to help anyone unless they come here, to us."

The black smoke of Fëanor's spirit swirled around Mandos's head, obscuring his countenance.

"Will you tell me how I can help you?" it asked.

Mandos sighed. "It has come to this," he said. "That which we have always feared has come to pass. Morgoth has returned from the Void, where we banished him before the change in Arda."

Fëanor was silent. The smoke dissipated, and then returned, but lowered itsElf to the ground about Mandos's feet and hung there, sullenly.

"How is it possible for him to do so?" asked Fëanor, finally.

"He is presently only a cloud of malicious thought, which hangs in the sky above our lands," replied Mandos. "It seems to possess some evil power, this thought. He wishes for us to make and give him seventy thousand Silmarils, and then he will go away and trouble us no more."

Fëanor let out a rush of breath, the smoke billowing. "Seventy thousand!" he exclaimed. "That devil stole all of my jewels - a huge quantity of gems the like of which will never again be seen. The Silmarils were only three of them, but the most precious. That he squandered all but three of them is of his own doing! Let him go to blazes!"

Mandos spoke patiently. "All but one of the Silmarils have been lost. Morgoth has threatened to destroy Valinor and everyone on it if we do not give him seventy thousand new Silmarils. Aulë the Smith has pledged his assistance to help you make them. I am asking you, here and now, if you will help us make more of them so that we can give them to Morgoth."

Fëanor laughed a great, powerful laugh, which seemed to energize his spirit and give it renewed strength. "That would be impossible," he said. "The Silmarils cannot be remade ever again. They could only be made in my furnaces at Formenos, which exists no longer."

"Formenos does exist," replied Mandos. "We have preserved it."

"But my formula for making the jewels, which was a secret known only to me and my sons, has been lost," said Fëanor, "and you have told me that all of my line has perished."

"You must recall the formula," said Mandos.

"I cannot. I do not remember it," replied Fëanor.

"It must be buried somewhere in your mind," Mandos persisted.

"So it may be," said Fëanor, "but I remember it not. And if I did I would be truthful and tell you that I would not part with it."

"If you do not," said Mandos with much patience, "then Morgoth will destroy this world, and we will all, including yoursElf, perish. Do you not care for your life, even if you have no regard for others'? I promise you this, Fëanor. If you do this thing to help us, I will restore you to your former sElf, and you shall have your life once more to use for good, perhaps."

"My life is no life," said Fëanor. "I care not if I have it back. What do I have to live for? My family is dead, my Silmarils will be lost once more, and I will still have what I have now - nothing."

"Please help us," Mandos continued to plead. "Your family has not perished. There is at least one who survives to carry on your line of descendants."

The smoke, which had spread out across the floor, now came together again, and swirled about Mandos.

"You lie to me!" Fëanor exclaimed angrily. "You told me my line was ended!"

"It is not in me to lie," replied Mandos. "Tell me you will help us, and I will tell you about your great-granddaughter who still lives, and has recently arrived on our shores from Middle-earth. Your son Maglor's whereabouts are as yet unknown."

There was silence as Fëanor dealt with this information.

"That news is fair to hear, yet I cannot help you, as I have said," replied Fëanor after a short pause. "Even if I wished to do so, the formula for the making of the Silmarils truly is forgotten."

"It may not be lost," said Mandos. "If you promise to help us, then I will help you to recall it."

The thoughts in Mandos's mind flew to Irmo on the Isle of Estë, and Irmo immediately understood what he had to do. He told Estë of the conversation that transpired between Mandos and Fëanor, and that he had devised a plan which had a good chance of being successful. Estë and Irmo wasted no time going in search of Lindaril.

Frodo and Lindaril were enjoying a swim in the lake when Estë and Irmo came across them. They were surprised to see the Valar at this time of early evening. It would soon be nightfall and the Valar were usually busy with their own business, and did not usually come to seek out the hobbits or their other guests at this time of day. Frodo emerged first from the water, and picked up his robe, which he had dropped on the sandy shore. He put it on and then held out Lindaril's robe for her, which she wrapped around hersElf as she stepped out of the water.

"We are sorry to disturb you both at this hour," said Estë, "but we have great need to speak with Lindaril."

Lindaril wondered what could be concerning the two Valar, as they both looked uncharacteristically worried. "You need to speak with me?" she asked.

"Is it secret, or can you speak in front of me?" asked Frodo. "It does not involve Gandalf at all, does it?" His curious look turned to one of concern.

"No, Frodo, this does not involve Gandalf," said Estë. "We wish to speak with Lindaril about an important matter which requires her attention, and her assistance. You do not have to leave, Frodo, but you must remain silent so that Lindaril can give us her full attention."

"This sounds very intriguing," said Lindaril, somewhat apprehensively.

They all sat down together and Irmo explained that he needed to try to retrieve some information from Lindaril that may have been buried deep in her memory. He said that he would have to do this by weaving his net of sleep about her, and causing her to have a dream that would bring out the facts that he felt sure were hidden in her mind.

"What is this mysterious thing that you need to know?" she asked.

Irmo sighed deeply. "We Valar swore to keep what I am about to tell you a secret. Only you are to hear this, and you must not reveal it to anyone else. At our last meeting, we received more information from Morgoth that fully explains the jeopardy in which our world is held. We discovered that we had to turn to Fëanor, your great-grandfather, for help. At this moment Mandos is currently speaking to his spirit in the Halls."

Lindaril rose with a start. "Fëanor!" she exclaimed. "He is my great-grandfather!" She stared intently into Irmo's eyes. "Why do you have need of his help?" she asked.

"Morgoth has demanded that we make and give to him seventy thousand Silmarils," said Irmo. "The Silmarils are the powerful jewels that Fëanor had made by his own hand many ages ago, and which have been lost."

"I know what the Silmarils are," said Lindaril in astonishment. "What has Fëanor said in answer to your plea for his help?"

"He said that he would have agreed to help us, but that the recipe for making the Silmarils has been lost. He cannot recall it. I believe that this knowledge may be buried deep within your own memory," said Irmo. "You have regaled us with many ancient songs about your family and the lore of old. I would be very surprised indeed, if you had not, at one point, learned the secret instructions for making the Silmarils from a family member, even if you do not remember. Your family, being exceedingly small, may have passed all tales of their legends on down to their descendants. You may be the last of your line; therefore I believe that you could have the buried knowledge of the secret formula for making the jewels. All of Valinor needs you, Lindaril. Would you please allow me to try to retrieve it?"

"I would do all I could to help," said Lindaril, fascinated by Irmo's story. "But my mother told me nothing of Fëanor. I do not believe she would have known of a secret formula."

"Would you let me try?" asked Irmo.

Lindaril agreed to let Irmo put her to sleep, but she was afraid. They all walked back to the house, and Lindaril retired to her bedroom. Irmo asked Frodo if he would, at this time, leave them alone, and Frodo agreed. He was feeling rather stunned by the news he had heard, and, feeling overwhelmingly tired, he went straight to bed.

After a short time, Irmo entered Lindaril's bedroom, and sitting at her bedside, holding her small hand in his, he wove his dream-like magic around her as she fell asleep. When she awoke the next morning Lindaril felt very groggy, as if she were in a kind of stupor. She tried to raise her head from her pillow, but she was overcome by a wave of dizziness, and dropped it back down with a weak little whimper. She opened her eyes to see Estë and Irmo sitting by her bedside.

"How do you feel?" asked Estë. She held Lindaril's hand, and stroked her brow with tenderness.

"I do not feel well," Lindaril mumbled. "I feel as if there are cobwebs in my mind."

"That feeling will soon pass," said Irmo. "Do you remember anything of your dreams?"

"Yes. There is a strange song lingering in my thoughts," she replied.

"Please sing it for us," said Irmo. "We have been waiting for this with much hope."

"It seems to be very much in fragments," Lindaril said. "But I will sing what I can remember." She began to sing in a melancholy voice:

"The Silmarils were of beauty incomparable  
Their light was of the sun and moon  
Made in the fire of the furnaces of Formenos  
Their secret followed their maker to his doom."

Irmo and Estë exchanged excited glances.

"And doom will follow those who keep them  
Sun shall pass and moon shall fall  
To the ends of the earth shall Morgoth follow  
Revenge shall be his, and death come to all."

Irmo and Estë's expressions changed to those of great concern. Lindaril then continued.

"Who covet the jewels that to Fëanor belong  
And his family to follow, and hearken strong  
To these words, which of need must be bold  
The secret of their making must never be told."

Irmo and Estë were now quite crestfallen, and almost despairing.

"The Silmarils, then: Here you must take  
One part of ruby  
And one part sapphire  
One part emerald  
And one part topaz  
Four parts diamond, and for bluish sheen  
Add to them an aquamarine."

Irmo and Estë, now elated, were almost dancing around Lindaril's bed. She continued:

"The forge must burn a fire great  
To its highest possible heat  
The gemstones must burn until they are  
A shining, molten sheet.

For a day they must stay warm  
And cool the molten liquid down  
Until the heat is halfway gone  
Then into this liquid you must pour

The nectar of Telperion's flower  
And the juice of Laurelin's fruit  
Blend them together until you see  
The rainbows and the light of the Trees.

Unmistakable this will be.

Cool the liquid in a great dish  
Then cut it in the shapes you wish."

As Lindaril finished her song, Irmo and Estë were looking rather crestfallen again, as they perceived that the nectar of Telperion and the fruit of Laurelin belonged to the ancient Trees of the Valar, which had been destroyed by Morgoth and Ungoliant, the spider, in ages past. What was left of them had been used by Varda to create the sun and moon, and were now no longer available for anyone's use, as their organic structure had changed. They thought that, although they had found the secret recipe, that it would be useless without these two essential ingredients.

Lindaril blinked her eyes and looked up at Irmo.

"Was that of help to you?" she asked.

"Yes, it was, my dear," he said. "We are indebted to you."

"Then please tell me why you need to make seventy thousand Silmarils to give to Morgoth. What will happen if you do not?"

Irmo saw that Lindaril would not be at ease unless he told her about the impending destruction of Valinor. When he had explained all that he knew, except for the betrayal of Fëanor, she was very quiet. She looked at him with great sadness in her eyes.

"I feel that I am responsible for these ill tidings," she said. "If I had not come here, then I should not have brought this fate with me."

"This is not your fault, Lindaril," said Irmo, trying to comfort her.

"My whole family was, and is, cursed," she whispered. "I am the last of them, and perhaps I am the most cursed of all."

Irmo tried his best to soothe her. "No, my dear. This is not of your doing. The evil that has befallen us was set in motion ages before you were born. You are a good person, Lindaril, and it is not your fault that the wicked legacy of the Silmarils has fallen upon you. We will do everything in our power to protect you, and to try to rid oursElves of this evil. Please place your trust in us."

In that moment, Lindaril felt the terrible, impending doom that was the prophecy that many had made for the Elven race. "What is now to become of us?" she enquired.

12


	20. Chapter 20

20

**A DESTINY FULFILLED**

Unfinished Tales: P. 389: Cirion and Eorl: "The name Halifirien meant in the language of the Rohirrim 'holy mountain'. Before their coming it was known in Sindarin as Amon Anwar, 'Hill of Awe' -- in the Common Speech it was called 'the Whispering Wood'."

Aragorn reluctantly took his leave of Legolas in the White City. He had tried to talk the Elf out of going to the Grey Havens, feeling that it was still not his friend's time to depart Middle-earth, despite the problematic Silmaril. It was Aragorn's feeling that the jewel could be put for safekeeping in the deep vaults of Minas Tirith, and if any sign of a curse appeared, it could be dealt with at that time. However, Legolas did not wish to subject anyone, least of all his friends, to any possibility of danger. He resolved to make the trip to Valinor, and he would not be swayed from that decision.

"I have thought about it through the night, and have decided that I must go, Aragorn. It is better to do it now, before my relationship with Fingalas grows. I shall go to tell her that we must leave for home as soon as possible. I wish to tell her there, in the place where we found each other, that I will have to leave her."

He went in search of Fingalas, and found her standing on the balcony of her bedroom, looking over the fair lands that spread out below her. The sun was glowing golden, and was reflected in her hair. He noticed how attractively her bright curls cascaded down the back of her neck and shoulders.

"Ah, there you are, Fingalas," he said softly. "I have come looking for you." He stopped to admire her trim figure and its attractive, relaxed posture. "Tell me, did your parents name you 'Fingalas', or did you make up that name yourself? Since it is an Elvish name, I had wondered."

She blushed. "I confess that I gave myself that name. My real one is quite horrible."

"I cannot not believe that," he said. "What was your name?"

"Penelope," she replied.

"Penelope. That is a fine name, if somewhat modern and hard-sounding to an Elf. Did you know what 'Fingalas' meant, in Elvish?"

"I believe it means 'bright hair', or something of that nature."

"You are right," he replied with a smile. "It is a most appropriate name for you, although I would have given you another. I would have called you 'Melyanna'."

"What does that name mean?" She asked.

"It means 'dear gift'," he replied. "And you were my dear gift."

Fingalas appeared not to have caught his meaning in his use of the past tense instead of the present.

"Oh, Legolas," she sighed. "I feel as if I am in a dream, being here with you in this beautiful room. When I used to live in Minas Tirith before, I never would have believed it if anyone had told me that I would some day be sleeping in a room in the palace. I am so sorry that I deceived you in the past about who I was," she said.

"Do not fret, my dear. It does not matter anymore. It is a deed that is done and finished with. I shall not waste any of our precious time together in saying that you should not have done what you did. Of what consequence is it now?"

He turned her around to face him and held her face up toward his, his hand gently holding her chin. Then, he could not resist, and he kissed her tenderly.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, pulling away in surprise, sensing her melancholy.

"Fingalas, I must speak with you regarding a matter of much importance, but I do not want to discuss it here, in Minas Tirith. I know that we have just arrived, but I wish to leave for home later this morning, and I will tell you about it once we are safely home. But before we go, I would like to visit the Houses of Healing, to see if Elspeth and Enna are still there, and to find out if they are well. I would like to see them again and make sure that they are all right," he said.

"You are so kind to others, Legolas," Fingalas remarked. "May I go with you? I should like to see Ioreth, my old teacher. The last time I saw her was a month ago, before you returned home."

"I did not know that you visited her regularly," said Legolas.

"Yes. She is a good friend of mine," said Fingalas. "I often helped her with her sick patients, as she taught me the skills of healing. I am sure that I have seen the Rohan woman, Elspeth, of whom you spoke, and her baby. I was sure from your description that I had met them before, and their names sounded familiar."

Legolas looked at her with some concern. "I do not feel that the Houses of Healing are a safe place for you," he said. "Now that I know you are mortal, I am afraid that you may be in danger of catching a disease from that place. You must be careful of this new plague that has come here from Rohan."

She looked at him lovingly and replied breezily, "Do not worry about me. I am sure that I am not in danger of catching any diseases."

They walked through the streets to the Houses of Healing, hand in hand. There they visited with Ioreth, and Legolas was reunited with Elspeth and Enna. Elspeth was now well, and was working with Ioreth in Fingalas' old nursing position, tending to the comfort of the sick. Enna, now a sturdy child of just over a year, was running about the place, getting in everyone's way in her childish exuberance. Both looked happy and healthy, although Legolas expressed his concern about the people working in the Houses of Healing possibly contracting some of the diseases from the ill people who were being treated there. Ioreth eased his mind by telling him she always made sure that everyone took the proper precautions.

"As you can see, My Lord, we mortals all wear masks and gloves when we are treating the sick people," she said. "And these are washed every night before we use them again the next day. In fact, we wash everything at night before we use it again. Clothing, bed sheets, pans, instruments, everything. Also, can you not smell the Athelas? We use it as a preventative medicine in the form of an infusion. We place it in special vessels around each room. It can ward off most germs. It is infused in hot water, and the mixture is kept heated from below by candles. Look. We have devised the special vessel that holds the infusion on top of the candle, which heats it from below." She indicated several of the devices, placed in every room. "We are constantly breathing in the Athelas fumes, all day long. Breathing it helps keep everyone healthy, and it helps those who are wounded to heal faster."

Legolas was much relieved to hear how meticulous the healers were, and to see that the Houses were so clean and well organized. Ioreth was an old woman now, but she knew a lot about her work, and was an invaluable nurse. He then remembered to ask her if she had any knowledge of a poison that would kill the very large ant lions in Moria. She nodded, and said, "I believe that I may have something that you can use. Wait here, and I shall fetch it."

Ioreth went away and came back presently, holding a large crystal vial containing a greenish liquid.

"This should do the trick," she said. "Be careful with it, as it is very potent. Mix a drop of this in a gallon of water, and give it to the pests to drink. Remember to be careful with it, though," she warned again. "It is lethal, and will kill a man instantly if ingested, even when it is greatly diluted."

Legolas promised that he would be careful with the poison. He and Fingalas then took their leave. They returned to the palace to find Aragorn and Arwen, to bid them both farewell. Arwen was unaware of Legolas' plan to leave Middle-earth and so she hugged him with glee rather than sorrow. Aragorn had not told Arwen, at Legolas' request, about his leaving or about the finding of the Silmaril.

"Oh, Legolas, I am happy for you," she said, "that you should find yourself a woman worthy of you and share your life with her as I have with Aragorn. You have so much to offer, and of all people, you deserve as much happiness as I have found. Will you pursue marriage with her, and thus choose mortality, as I have done?"

He felt his eyes mist with tears. "Arwen," he spoke huskily, "you have always been a good friend to me, and you have now discovered my secret."

Arwen was puzzled to see Legolas crying. "What is this secret? Why do you cry?" she asked. "You must be getting sentimental in your old age!" Then she noticed a look of unusual sorrow in his eyes. "Come, I wish to speak with you privately," she said, and led him away from the others to a secluded alcove.

"You look both happy and sad at the same time," she said, regarding him with her keen Elf-eyes. "Are you happy with Fingalas, or do you not love her? What are you doing, Legolas? I sense a great conflict within you."

"I do not know," replied Legolas, his eyes downcast. He was afraid to look into Arwen's eyes directly again, for fear that she would guess too closely what it really was that was troubling him.

"How can you not know how you feel?" she persisted.

Legolas thought for a moment, and then he said, "Fingalas takes good care of me, Arwen. She always has done so. She is tender, warm and giving. She is sweet and kind. She loves me in spite of my faults. When I finally realized that I needed her, too, I felt the burden of all of my troubles fall away. I felt whole again, and I felt as I did as a young lad, experiencing the joys of life for the first time. I realized that at last I had love to give someone else, that I had been holding inside of me for over three thousand years."

Arwen smiled at him. "That certainly sounds like love to me," she said, "although I admit I had hoped that you would come to love Lindaril. I thought that the two of you were well suited. I will confess that Aragorn and I had purposely brought you two together in hope that you would take to each other. I do not have any ill will toward Fingalas, but she is mortal, Legolas, and I somehow fear for that. Not because you would have to become mortal yourself if you married her, but because of a sense of disquiet that I feel surrounds you both."

"I appreciate that you have told me how you feel, Arwen," said Legolas, "but there was something wrong with Lindaril, something very disturbing. I will not deny that she is intriguing, but I sensed that there was something dangerous about her as well."

"Is that not strange?" asked Arwen. "I feel the presence of danger, too, but it is not associated with Lindaril. I feel more that it surrounds Fingalas." She and Legolas then exchanged worried glances. Both of them understood the significance of Elvish prescience.

"It is no matter," said Legolas finally, feeling the pull of the mission that he had set for himself to complete. He must take the Silmaril away. He then cut the conversation short. "Let us go back and join the others. I thank you, Arwen, for your honesty."

She nodded and smiled, but in her heart there was much concern for him. When they walked back to join the group, Aragorn was saying to Fingalas:

"Elvish farewells are very flowery and always take much longer than ours do, it would seem!"

Aragorn then held his friend in a close but sombre embrace. "Legolas, you know how I feel about this," he said in a whisper. "I wish that you would reconsider your decision to go away. But, if you feel that you must, then go with my blessing and my love, and whatever luck that I can give you."

Legolas felt devastated by the realization that he would never see his friends again, but he did not outwardly show his feelings. It was very clear to him that if he left Middle-earth, he would be saying goodbye to his life on this world.

At length, he and Fingalas took their leave. Legolas was feeling quite shaken. He felt an unsteadiness as they made their way back to Ithilorien, but he was resolute in his desire to take the Silmaril away from Middle-earth. He did not know how he was going to be able to leave Fingalas, and worse, having to tell her that he would be going and not coming back. He wished for a moment that she could make the journey with him, but because she was a mortal woman, that was impossible. He was saddened by the thought that he would have to part with her at this time, when they were just beginning to get to know each other. After leaving her, then he would have to travel back to Moria and tell Gimli his news. That would be another dreadfully difficult task.

He was silent with his thoughts as he and Fingalas stopped for the night. She slept soundly after riding hard all day. Legolas stayed awake in torment through the night, worrying about the road ahead of him. The next morning, when Fingalas awoke, Legolas prepared something for her to eat, and once she was ready, they continued on their way home. The Silmaril was in one of Arod's saddlebags, Legolas having retrieved it from the vaults of Minas Tirith without Fingalas' knowledge.

Her voice brought him out of his silence.

"Legolas, look!" she cried. She was pointing at the river, which was unusually still, and reflected the sky, the greenness of the trees and the grass of the riverbank as they rode past. It was a beautiful sight. Legolas saw the river at that moment, and almost burst into tears. Fingalas noticed how serious he looked, and wondered why.

"Are you thinking sad thoughts about something, my love?" she asked.

"Something intolerably sad," he replied. "But I will try to put it out of my mind." He looked at her and smiled the most radiant smile that he could muster. She smiled back at him, her heart full of love for him.

They were a short distance from home when Legolas pulled Arod to a stop.

"Whoa," he said to Fingalas' horse as well.

"Why do you stop?" she asked.

"A sense of disquiet bothers me," he replied. "It is, I believe, of something burning, and I sense too, the fretting of horses." Alarmed, he set Arod to a gallop. Fingalas' horse followed as fast as it could. As he got closer, Legolas saw smoke rising from the direction of his stables. He smelled it, too, even though the air was still. There was no breeze at all. He and Fingalas rode closer, and they could see that smoke was rising from the stables' roof. There were sounds of commotion coming from inside, from horses panicking.

"Fingalas, stay here!" Legolas shouted in alarm, and sprang down from Arod's back. "You too, Arod!" Arod neighed in concern, as if he understood what was happening to his home and his friends.

Legolas ran toward the stables as fast as a deer in flight from a wolf. As he approached, he could see two men running, being chased by two stable hands. Legolas was neither carrying his bow and arrows, nor any other weapon. "Dunlendings!" he cried. "Help! Help! We are under attack!"

One of the fleeing men tried to run past, and Legolas sprang at him, grabbing his arm. The man was carrying a torch in his other hand, and flung it at Legolas, but he ducked the torch, and threw the man to the ground. He clutched the stranger by the throat in a steely grip, and hissed: "Tell me what you think you are doing here!"

The man was terrified by the Elf's fierce strength.

"We was trying to steal horses, My Lord," he stammered. "Please don't hurt me!" He was too afraid to lie.

Legolas then recognized him as one of the mountain men whom he and Gimli had met on their way into Rohan.

"You! I know you!" he cried. "My friend and I tried to help you! You pretended to be refugees, when you were but fugitives! What other evils have you done?" He was furious. He was just about to strike the man to subdue him, when he heard a piercing cry from Fingalas.

While Legolas was busy with the thief he had captured, the man's companion had run toward Fingalas and the horses. This man had first tried to grab Arod, but the horse kicked at him and would not let him near. Then, the man grabbed Fingalas' horse, and threw her off of it. As she lay on the ground, the thief tried to mount her horse, but she grabbed hold of his foot to try to stop him. The man then turned and kicked her hard in the face, and she cried out in anguish as she fell backward onto the ground. She lay there as limp as a rag doll, her arms and legs stretched out on the grass of Legolas' beloved home.

Legolas, alarmed, dashed back toward their two horses to try to help Fingalas. Seeing her lying on the ground with a grazed mark on her face enraged him. He pulled the thief down as he tried to climb onto her horse and twisted his neck with his bare hands until he could feel the bones snap. As the man fell dead to the ground, Legolas knelt down beside Fingalas and lifted up her head. She was bleeding from her mouth, and was unconscious.

"No, Fingalas, no!" he cried. He was devastated. "Are you hurt?" In his concentration to try to determine how badly injured she was, Legolas' Elvish senses briefly abandoned him.

The Dunlending whom Legolas had first attacked now crept up behind him. He held a pitchfork in his hand. He had used it to fend off the two stable hands, who were now busy trying to rescue the horses from the burning stables, and did not see him approach Legolas.

The man aimed the pitchfork at Legolas' head. At the last split-second before it would have hit him, Legolas' Elf senses returned to warn him, and he ducked aside. He did not have time to think. The pitchfork missed him, but in so doing, it stabbed Fingalas, two of its prongs piercing her throat, and one of them severing her spinal cord. She died instantly.

Most of the Elves from Legolas' household were away attending a nearby event in his absence, and the only one who had remained behind had been in the house when Legolas cried out, and had rushed to the burning stables to help the horses that were trapped inside. It was too late for him to do anything to help his friend.

Feeling an icy rage rise up inside him, Legolas turned and faced the thief and murderer who had killed Fingalas. The man, greatly afraid, looked into Legolas' eyes, which shone with a fierceness as coldly blue as ice. Legolas grabbed the man by the throat.

"So this is how you repay me for helping you," he said with stony calm. He then squeezed the man's neck with one hand, while lifting him up off the ground. He held him there until the man's life ebbed out of him, the whole time staring into his eyes with a deadly cold and furious gaze. When the thief and murderer was dead, Legolas dropped his body to the ground.

There was a terrible commotion coming from the stables. Legolas dashed toward them, running through the flames to get inside. Not sparing any thought for his own safety, he helped his friend to lead out as many horses as he could. As he glanced around, he saw that six fine stallions lay dead in their stalls, having been overcome by the smoke. He then returned to Fingalas. There was nothing more he could do for her. He fell down on the ground beside her, taking her limp hand in his. She was clearly dead.

"Oh, Fingalas," he whimpered, burying his face upon her bosom, and cradling her lifeless form in his arms. "My Melyanna!" He lay beside her, weeping with sorrow. He stayed there a long time. The Elf who had come running at his call tried to coax him into the house, but Legolas preferred to remain where he was, sitting beside the lifeless body of his loved one. Arod, who could sense the calamity that had befallen his beloved master, tried to nudge the Elf to soothe him, but the horse was rebuffed.

Finally, Legolas rose to his feet, and he was much changed in spirit. He resolved to do what he had set out to do. He would remain an Elf, fulfill his destiny and he would never marry. He went into the house, and prepared a resting place for Fingalas' body. When the other Elves returned, he gathered them together and spoke to them of his plans.

"Please have Fingalas entombed in the proper manner as befits a person of importance," he said, "just as they do in Minas Tirith, and please send word to the King and Queen of what has happened here today. I am going away now, and I shall not return."

Once he saw that the fire in the stables was extinguished, and the horses that had been rescued were safe, he then bade farewell to all of his friends, and jumped onto Arod's back. He coaxed the horse to go north. As he left his home, he did not look back.

Legolas kept a steady pace with Arod, moving at a slow trot, headed in the direction of the Grey Havens. They traveled along the same road where they had met the group of five men from Rohan. The memory of that meeting was now bitter for him. He did not think much about anything in his gloomy state of mind as he traveled. He stopped now and then to care for Arod, and to let the horse drink and rest.

At one stop, they were attacked by five starving coyotes. Legolas shot them all easily with bow and arrows. After that, he did not want Arod to carry the Silmaril, blaming it for his own ill luck, that had ended with Fingalas' death. And so he took it out of the saddlebag and strapped it to his own back. It was wrapped in heavy cloth so that its light would not be seen. He and Arod plodded onward.

They passed Nardol, the beacon-hill near the place where they had found Elspeth and Enna. He hardly remembered them now, in his present almost catatonic state of mind. When they eventually approached the Firien Wood on the Great West Road, they were attacked again, but this time it was by a pack of seven wolves. These animals were too much for Legolas to fight off by himself. The attack came too suddenly, and the wolves were very large and much fiercer than normal. They had been starving for far too long. Two of them killed Arod, biting at him furiously, rending the poor horse's flesh until he fell, screaming and pawing the air, and then tearing out his throat with their strong jaws and sharp teeth. They set upon Legolas too, tearing at his arms and legs, and leaving deep wounds in them. He fought ferociously in order to help Arod, but he could not staunch the wolves' attack. One of them had managed to grasp his bow in its teeth, and had cracked it in two, rendering it useless.

"These devilish creatures seem to be possessed," he thought, as he fought them desperately with his knife and his hands. It was not enough. Finally, the wolves tore at the Silmaril on his back, ripping away the covering. The first wolf who got its teeth on it was blinded by the sudden light as the jewel was exposed, and his jaws were scorched by it. The wounded animal fled, howling in pain and terror, running into the open lands, not able to see where it was going. The next wolf, and the next, as they bit at Legolas, all became blinded by the Silmaril.

Some of the starving wolves drank the ant lion poison that spilled from Arod's broken saddlebags. These wolves died instantly, writhing in agony where they fell, beside Arod's body lying lifeless on the hard, cruel road, his strong red blood staining his noble white hair.

After the attack, Legolas lay on the ground for a while, semi-conscious. He was badly wounded. He was bleeding profusely from many bites, and the Silmaril, still strapped to his back, was now exposed, giving off its brilliant light like the brightest star in the night sky. Legolas mustered enough strength to kneel beside Arod, stroking the neck of the poor dead animal. He wept many tears for the loss of his brave and faithful steed, blaming himself for the curse of the Silmaril, which he believed had caused the death of Fingalas and Arod, and now possibly, himself.

Something happened inside his mind at this point. Suffering from too much grief and too many injuries, he arose and walked into the woods, where his mind went blank, and he collapsed upon the forest floor. A few days later he awakened from his deep sleep, still wounded, but no longer near death. He stayed in the wood, believing that something within had saved him, and he wandered to and fro, fruitlessly searching for his benefactor. His grief consumed him and he succumbed to it, letting his memories wash over him in great waves. The spirits that dwelt within the wood had saved his life, enveloping his torn and broken body within their cocoon of sleep, and strengthening his will to live while his wounds healed, untouched by the pall of infection. They did not touch the Silmaril, but left it exposed upon his back, to assist them in warding off scavengers.

He remained in the wood, wandering ever deeper into it when he awoke, having no desire to see another living person. Whenever anyone ventured into the wood and chanced to come upon him, from a distance the stranger thought he was seeing an apparition, perhaps a ghost. Stories about this apparition spread. He became known as the "Star Man" to the local people who lived nearby. He was always seen as a figure in silhouette, with a light upon his back, its brightness obscuring his appearance so that he was as shadow before the light.

Word spread even into Edoras of this strange apparition in the Firien Wood, but the King and the people of his court believed that it was only a ghost tale, and did not bother to go and try to see it for themselves. The Firien Wood was already the source of a legend of old. It had once been the burial place of Elendil, ancient King of Gondor. The hill where Elendil had been buried within the woods was called Amon Anwar, the "Hill of Awe." Whenever anyone approached this sacred burial mound, they became filled with a feeling of dread and could not speak. Long ago, Elendil's corpse had been moved to the Houses of the Dead in Minas Tirith, but Amon Anwar remained a place of legend, and the Firien Wood itself was named the "Whispering Wood" because of the spirits that were thought to dwell within it. On top of the highest part of the hill was the northernmost of the old beacons of war-time, called Halifirien.

As Legolas wandered through the wood, he came within sight of Amon Anwar. He became drawn to it, and felt its special power wash over him. He had suffered grave wounds from the wolves, and would surely have died from them if he had been mortal. As an Elf, he still may have perished but for the forces in the wood, which certainly kept him alive. They shut down the workings of his mind so that he was unable to leave the wood. He stayed within its protective confines, wandering about under the spell of the spirits which occupied the old burial site. He climbed to the top of the beacon-hill, Halifirien, and the light from the Silmaril now shone from it as a beacon of old. No help came, however, as the apparition of the "Star Man" was too frightening a thing for the people of the area to approach. While he wandered, Legolas would occasionally be able to sing a melancholy song, half in his mind, and half out loud in a wailing howl of a voice. Heard by a few lonely travelers on the road, it would send cold fingers of dread to clutch at their spines, and put pangs of fear into their hearts; however, it also managed to keep the wolves away. Those who heard it thought that it came from the ghost in the wood that they had named the "Star Man."

He would sing:

"From the depths of the doomed  
She did come  
Cruelly she was used  
As love's sweet hope  
I loved her, a mortal.  
She dwelt in dreams of tenderness felt.  
We had not a chance  
To be as one  
She died too young  
As I lay  
In tears of bitter guilt.  
And I shall now  
Fulfill my destiny  
To be an Elf

Come what may."

15


	21. Chapter 21

21

The Search

Unfinished Tales: P. 393: Cirion and Eorl: "'Is this then a tomb? But what great man of old lies here?' 'Have you not read the letters?' said Cirion. 'I have', said the Prince, 'and therefore I wonder; for the letters are lambe, ando, lambe, but there is no tomb for Elendil, nor has any man since his day dared to use that name'. 'Nonetheless this is his tomb', said Cirion; 'and from it comes the awe that dwells on this hill and in the woods below'."

When Legolas did not arrive back in Moria at his stated time, Gimli became worried, and asked Mene-mil if the root-man would take over the supervision of the reconstruction, while Gimli prepared to make the journey to Ithilorien, to see if he could find out what had happened to Legolas. Mene-mil agreed to do this, even though he dearly wished to join Gimli on his journey out of worry for his new friend, the Elf, and the desire to travel in the out-of-doors once more.

Gimli embarked on the journey on foot, because of his aversion to riding horses, especially when alone. He soon discovered that walking was the worst way to undertake such a quest, because it was very slow going. Dwarves did not need to rest at all; however, Gimli would stop occasionally to refresh himself with food and drink. He thought that he would follow the river, walking south first along the Entwash until he came to the Mering Stream, and then follow the stream to the outskirts of the Firien Wood. Then he planned to follow the foothills of the White Mountains southward until he came to Minas Tirith. He planned to stop first in the White City before traveling to Legolas's home in South Ithilien, just in case Aragorn may know of any reason why Legolas would have been delayed, or why he had decided not to return to Moria.

In this way, when Gimli came to the place where the Mering Stream flowed out of the Entwash, he was very close to the Firien Wood - he was only about fifty miles north of Legolas. However, because Gimli had no knowledge of Legolas's whereabouts when he reached the stream, he changed his mind about the course he was on, right at that point, having thought about Aragorn for days and wondering what the King of Gondor might be able to tell him. He decided to take the more direct route to Minas Tirith along the banks of the Anduin River.

When he finally reached Minas Tirith about ten days later, he was welcomed with open arms by Aragorn and Arwen. He told Aragorn of his concern that Legolas had not turned up in Moria, while Arwen went to have a meal prepared for him.

"His last words to me were "I promise," and he meant to return in six months' time. It has been more than six months, and I have not seen hide nor hair of him. That is not at all his way, Aragorn, and I am worried about him."

"You have given me most distressing news which has come on the heels of prior sad tidings," said Aragorn. He sighed heavily and sank down into his chair. "I believed that he would have stopped at Moria to say goodbye to you. He told us that he would do so."

"He told you that he would say goodbye to me?" asked Gimli, deep concern in his voice. "Sand and clay! Why would he want to say goodbye to me, and what sad tidings are you talking about?"

Aragorn put his hand to his brow. "There is much you do not know, Gimli. First, he told me that he was determined to take the Silmaril that you found in Moria to the Undying Lands by himsElf, after he had missed Lindaril at the Grey Havens."

"No!" cried Gimli. "Oh, no! It would be my last wish that he go to the Havens! I thought he could leave the jewel here for safekeeping, in your vaults!" The Dwarf was tearing at his beard in frustration.

"Gimli, please calm yourself and listen to me!" exclaimed Aragorn. "I had wanted him to leave it here, but he refused to do so!"

"Oh, the stubborn fool!" cried Gimli, pacing the room.

"Wait. There is more," said Aragorn, passing a hand over his brow. "When he came to see me he had with him a woman called Fingalas."

"Fingalas? Oh, yes, Fingalas! I know the lass! She was of his household, but he had told me there was nothing in the way of romance between them!"

"Well, there was certainly something, Gimli," said Aragorn, leaning forward in his chair. He had brought her here with him when he came to seek my counsel and told me of his dilemma. He felt he had to choose between going to Valinor with the jewel or staying in Middle-earth so that she and he could build a life together ."

"Harrumph! Well, as usual, I am the last to be told about anything!" Gimli huffed. "Even though I had suspected there was something between them! He tried to deny it, of course, but I knew better!" The Dwarf was shouting.

"Gimli, if you could just be quiet for a moment, then I could finish my story," said Aragorn, exasperated.

"All right, all right, go ahead," said Gimli. "There is no need to be huffy. I am just concerned for the Elf, that is all."

"Me, huffy?" asked Aragorn. "You, of all people, are calling me, 'huffy'?" He shook his head, staring at the Dwarf in disbelief, and continued. "Legolas and Fingalas had left Minas Tirith and had just reached his home when they were attacked by two horse thieves who had burned down his stables, and a struggle ensued, during which Fingalas was tragically killed." He explained the details of the attack to Gimli.

"Killed by a pitchfork?" said Gimli, shocked by the news. "Oh, no! But wait—how could an Elf be so easily killed?"

"She was not an Elf," said Aragorn. "She was mortal."

"Was she?" Gimli asked. "What a tragedy! What then did Legolas do?"

"According to members of his household who came to see me afterward, he told them he was going away. He was headed north, they say. I believe he did, in fact, intend to head for the Grey Havens as he had said he would. However, what puzzles me is that he did not go to Moria first to say farewell to you."

A great wave of sadness swept over both Gimli and Aragorn. Aragorn embraced the Dwarf, and they both wept for the loss of their friend, and for his tragic loss of Fingalas. After a while, when they both had mourned for Legolas, Aragorn steadied himself and went in search of Arwen, to tell her the sad news that Gimli had brought them. Upon hearing it, Arwen was overcome with grief.

"If only I had known that he carried one of the Silmarils at the time I last spoke with him, I would have given him some much different advice than I did. Oh, why did you not tell me about the Silmaril then, Aragorn?" She gazed upon him not with anger, but with sorrow.

"For several reasons, my beloved," said Aragorn. "For one, Legolas had asked me not to tell you. Next, it was awkward with Fingalas being there, as he had not informed her yet of his plans, and she should have been the first one to be told. He wished to take her back to their home in Ithilorien to tell her. Lastly, you would have been upset by his decision and you may have tried to stop him and he knew this." Aragorn put his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her deep grey-blue eyes that filled with tears.

"Yes, of course, I would have tried to stop him!" cried Arwen. "I would have told him that there was another place he could have taken the jewel where it would have remained safe until there was a need for it to be moved!"

"I offered to let him put it into the deep vaults here," said Aragorn, "but he would not heed my advice. He was so sure that it would have brought harm to us."

"So it could have. He was right," said Arwen. "I would have told him to take the Silmaril to Imladris. In fact, I would have gone with him to show him exactly where it could be kept in a safe place, and no harm would have come to anyone."

Aragorn stared at her solemnly. "In your father's secret tomb for unsafe things? The place where he would not let us put the One Ring? If the jewel could have been taken there, then perhaps Fingalas's death could have been prevented. I am so sorry, Arwen."

"No, dear, perhaps this was a fate that was meant to be for all the Valar know. In the matter of the One Ring, of course you know that it had to go away to be destroyed. It is a different situation that we have with the Silmaril. The jewel cannot be destroyed, but as long as it is given to its rightful owner, none should come to harm. If the rightful owner cannot be found, then by placing the jewel in a safe place its curse cannot harm anyone. Imladris is such a safe place, as is Valinor, of course. I am surprised that Círdan did not tell Legolas at the Havens to take the Silmaril to Imladris. He was a great friend of Father's, and must have known about the tomb for unsafe things."

"Alas, Legolas informed me that he did not tell anyone about the Silmaril outside of Moria," declared Aragorn.

"So be it," replied Arwen. "Fate shall decide. I felt that danger surrounded Fingalas, but not Legolas. However, it is my hope that he can be found before he reaches the Havens."

"Do you believe that he has not yet reached the Havens?" Aragorn asked her. He raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

"Yes, I feel that he is not there, and has not been there," she said. "But I do not have a sense of where he may be."

Aragorn then acted very quickly, and sent out twenty men on fast horses to go in search of Legolas, in hope of being able to overtake him. The men galloped away, riding as swiftly as they could, but flew past the Firien Wood, not knowing that he was within, and rode all the way to the Grey Havens without finding him.

Later that day, Gimli took his leave of Aragorn to return to Moria. He had told Aragorn about the root-people and their work in the mines, and about the rebuilding of the Dwarf architecture there. Aragorn promised that he would pay them a visit as soon as he was able, to meet the root-people and tour Moria. Gimli then set forth on the long road back. He was not looking forward to the lonely journey, since he was grieving the loss of his friend. As he walked, he turned over and over in his mind the memory of the last time he had seen Legolas. The Elf had been in a low mood when he arrived in Moria, yet by the time he left he had seemed to have come to a decision, which Gimli tried to analyze. What had Legolas said, exactly? He tried to recall their last conversation. He felt sure that Legolas had no intention of going to the Grey Havens at that time.

Gimli trudged onward. He remembered that Legolas had said that he would come back to Moria. In light of Fingalas's horrible death, Gimli could understand why Legolas may have wanted to leave Middle-earth, but he would not have left without coming to say goodbye to Gimli. Gimli was stubbornly sure of that, because Legolas had promised it, and he knew that the Elf would never break a promise to him. But what was it that Legolas had said that would prove that to him? The thought nagged at Gimli's mind.

"Oh, think hard, Master Dwarf, think hard! You know that he said something very definite!"

Mile after mile, Gimli marched along the road, along the line of beacon-hills, from Amon Din to Eilenach, and then he came to Nardol. The scenery along this edge of the valley of the White Mountains was exceptionally beautiful, but in his worry, Gimli did not even notice the majestic vista. He stopped eventually to eat, and sat down on a flat rock. He opened his backpack and took out some bread and cheese, and a flask of water. As he ate, he dropped some bits of food, and watched as a column of ants moved toward the crumbs as they lay scattered on the ground.

"Ants! That was it!" he thought. "He said that he would try to get some poison for the ant lions and bring it to Moria!" Gimli jumped up from his rock, scattering the rest of his food.

"That does it! I am sure that he did not go to the Grey Havens! I must try to track him. He did not come to Moria, so where did he go? This road is the only one he would have taken if he did mean to go north, as he would have been riding Arod, so I shall stay on it until I come to a village, and then I will ask someone there if they saw him passing!"

The sun was just starting to set in the west as Gimli walked northwards. It was a fiery red ball in the blue-grey sky, and cast a glowing golden light over the lands to the north. At any other time, the sight would have been uplifting to his spirit, but Gimli was too worried to notice the light. He eventually arrived at the place where Legolas had killed the five coyotes. Their carcasses were still there, partially eaten and dragged off by scavengers, and the remains were decayed almost beyond recognition, but there were still some bones scattered about, and Gimli noticed them. His sharp eyes saw part of one of Legolas's distinctive-looking arrows lying on the ground.

"He came this way, then!" he thought, and was pleased to have found the clue. He continued along the same route, and three days later, after he had walked past Erelas, Minrimmon and Calenhad, Gimli came to the outskirts of the Firien Wood at dusk. He noticed some firelight in a small settlement near the road, on the opposite side to the Wood, and decided to approach it with the purpose of asking some questions of the people there. As he drew closer, he could see that there was smoke rising from near one of the huts, and he could hear men's voices. They were speaking in the Westron tongue of Rohan.

"Hello!" he called out as he approached three men sitting around a small campfire, warming their hands. The group consisted of two men and a boy of about fourteen. The men mumbled a welcome to Gimli. They did not seem too surprised to see a Dwarf, which was normally a rare sight in their lands, but these men were rangers and hunters, and had seen dwarves before in their travels.

"I do not wish to disturb you," said Gimli, "but I am looking for my friend. I believe he may have come this way some time in the past few months, and I wonder if you may have seen him."

One of the men laughed. "We have seen many travelers in the past several months. Did your friend look like you?"

"No. He is an Elf," said Gimli. "He is fair-haired and tall. He would have been riding a spirited white horse."

One of the men shook his head. "I have not seen anyone matching that description," he said. "An Elf would have been remarkable in these parts. A white horse, though, I have seen, although it was dead and lying at the side of the road. Killed by wolves. There were wolf carcasses near that of the horse."

Then the young boy said, "It was found close to where the Star Man has been seen in the Wood."

"Who?" asked Gimli, his voice sharp.

The men told him about the apparition in the Firien Wood, which had become legend of late in the area.

"It is a dark figure but you cannot see its face. It bears a bright light, like a star, upon its back. The light is so bright that you cannot look straight at it. We believe that he is a ghost. He wanders to and fro in the woods, andt never speaks or comes out. Sometimes he sings."

"Have you seen this person yourself?" asked Gimli. His heart was beating very fast.

The boy answered. "Yes. Although all I really saw was something like a rainbow coming from between the trees. I heard wailing, and the light was so bright that I could not bear to look at it, so I ran away."

"Like a rainbow?" asked Gimli. He became excited and grasped the boy by his shoulders. "A rainbow of light! It must be the Silmaril! Thank you, gentlemen, and especially you, my lad! Now, would you please point me in the direction of this spectre?"

The men looked at him with skepticism. "Are you sure you want to go in there?" one of them asked. "This apparition is certainly not your friend. It cannot be human, or even Elvish. It is surely a ghost. You must be careful about wandering in those woods, or you may not come out alive. There is an ancient burial mound in the Wood called the Hill of Awe. You must not approach it. There are evil spirits there that dwell on the Hill. They render speechless any who come upon them. They alter the mind." The man shuddered, and Gimli could see the whites of his eyes. The boy groaned in fear, and continued groaning in a low voice.

Gimli paid them no mind, and ran in the direction to which the boy pointed. As he entered the wood, the sky was becoming very dark. The sun had gone down behind the trees and the hill. Gimli did not like being in the woods at the best of times, and less so at this moment. He tried not to heed the stories he had been told. He gripped his axe, but held it low. He moved forward very slowly.

The woods were dark and close, and smelled of the earth, musty and dank. A whispering shadow drifted softly past Gimli's shoulder as he moved slowly forward. He tried to suppress a gasp. He had been searching for several minutes through thick moss and weeds, trying not to stumble over fallen logs, when he thought he saw a glimmer of light approaching from afar, among the tree branches. It was on the higher ground. "Ah, save me, is it coming from the hill?" thought Gimli, trying not to shiver as he remembered what the man had said about evil spirits.

He stood still, trying not to let his nerves overcome his senses. The light, wavering, moved downward slowly. Gimli sensed that it was moving closer to him, but stood his ground, hoping that it would turn out to be Legolas, and not some ghastly apparition. He tried not to think that it would, when finding him, pick him up and carry him away to the burial mound and do something horrible to him. His heart was pounding in his ears. The light grew gradually brighter and brighter as it came toward him. He began to hear a high, thin, wailing sound. Just before the light became too bright for the Dwarf to continue looking at it, he thought he could make out the shape of someone silhouetted in the brightness. Gimli had to close his eyes in that moment, but he was sure that the light was from the Silmaril.

"Legolas, is that you?" he called out, blindly, hope sounding in his voice.

Suddenly, he felt the warmth and the slight sound of someone breathing very close to him. Then something brushed against him and he heard and felt it fall to the ground. He felt something gripping him around the knees and he willed himself to keep his eyes shut. He had been holding his breath when he felt the apparition close to him, and he almost fainted. But, still holding the thought that this thing could be Legolas, he mastered his nerves and remained alert and upright.

Gingerly, he reached behind him to open his backpack, and pulled out his old Elven cloak from Lothlorien that the Lady Galadriel had given him. He always carried this cloak with him wherever he went. It invoked the memory of the Lady, whom he loved dearly, and the thought of her helped him to gather his nerves. He threw the cloak over the figure grasping his knees, and it successfully blocked out the blinding light that issued forth from its back. Some light still shone dimly through the weave of the cape, but it was now bearable to look upon it. Gimli glanced down at the figure on the ground, and he was shocked by what he saw.

It was definitely Legolas, but how changed he was! His hair was a tangled, disheveled mess. He was dirty and was covered in partially-healed wounds and dried blood. Gimli drew in his breath sharply at the sight of Legolas's face. It looked terrible, like a mask. It was pale, with sunken cheeks and huge dark circles under its eyes. The eyes were staring, but they were not looking at anything. The face looked sharp and was cold in its expression. Its lips were drawn back in a grimace of horror. Gimli almost screamed in terror when he saw this apparition that was once his dear friend, and he could not imagine what terrible trauma had caused such a change in the Elf.

Gimli struggled to keep himself composed, and put his hands on Legolas's head. He stroked the Elf's tangled, dirty hair as tenderly as he could muster.

"Legolas, old chap, have I really found you at last?" he murmured.

He felt much emotion, as he stroked his good friend's hair. Legolas finally relaxed his grip on Gimli's knees as the spell of the Wood was broken, and dropped his head in weariness. His shoulders hunched as he relaxed his arms, and he buried his face in his hands. Then he began to weep. He wept, and wept, and he could not stop.

9


	22. Chapter 22

22

A Rebirth and a Departure

The Silmarillion: P. xviii: From a Letter by J.R.R. Tolkien: "But the Elves are there to demonstrate the difference -- Their magic is Art -- And its object is Art, not Power, sub-creation not domination and tyrannous re-forming of Creation."

P. xix: From a Letter by J.R.R. Tolkien: "In the Cosmogony there is a fall: a fall of Angels we should say."

After the night of the dream that Irmo had induced, Lindaril awoke the next day feeling groggy and weak. Frodo stayed by her side and would not leave her. She did not feel much like going out as they usually did to play a sport or game, so they decided to spend the rest of the day talking and reading, and meandering about in Estë's vast house. Lindaril turned to Frodo and smiled. "I would prefer, more than anything else, to cuddle with you all day long indoors today, if you would know the truth."

Frodo blushed, and put his arms around her, hugging her to him.

Lindaril thought, 'He is the sweetest, most sensitive person. He has such consideration for others. That is the quality I love most about him.' She drew back and looked at him closely.

"Are you happy to be here on Valinor?" she asked. "How did you feel when you first arrived?"

To tell you the truth, I would rather have died," he admitted.

Lindaril looked as if she were shocked by his answer.

"Oh, no, do not misunderstand me. I don't feel that way now," he explained. "At the time, the leaving of my friends and my home in the Shire was like tearing my heart from my body. The journey I took with the Ring, that had seized my happy life and held it for ransom, was a necessary thing, but I was not glad to come here despite that. Not at first. At least my uncle came with me, and Gandalf, whom I looked up to as if he were my father. It helped to have them with me, but the forsaking of the home that I loved was almost too much to bear. Thankfully, Estë and the island, the lake and the gardens have been a blessing to me. I look up to her as I would a mother. I did not know my parents, who drowned when I was an infant."

"Are you happy now?" Lindaril asked.

"As happy as I will ever be, I think," he replied, and smiled at her.

Lindaril promised Frodo that the next day, after she had had a good night's sleep, they would go for a hike through the Gardens of Lorien. They planned to walk from morning to early afternoon, do some exploring, and then they would then stop for a picnic lunch. Afterward they would turn around and walk back to the house. Frodo slept soundly that night, and was awakened early the next morning by Lindaril, who appeared in his window and sang him a cheery song. He awoke thinking that he was hearing a bluebird's voice, and turned toward the window with a smile when he realized it was Lindaril's.

"Come on, sleepyhead, get out of bed!" she sang, laughing.

He laughed, too, and jumped up, throwing a pillow through the window at her.

"Leave me alone to get dressed! I shall be with you in a moment!" he cried.

They walked about the Gardens together, enjoying the spectacular vistas and each other's company, in this enchantingly beautiful isle. They were very happy to be together. Frodo felt that he was lucky indeed to have found Lindaril. She was unconventional; sometimes wild and abandoned, and he found her to be unusually intelligent, with a razor-sharp wit. He felt that she was the opposite of him, yet the two of them got along extremely well. He did not feel at all inadequate next to her. In the past, he would never have thought that he could be an Elf's equal. Now, he felt that he and Lindaril were perfectly suited to each other because their personalities were so different that they complemented each other. Physically, he felt equal to her because of his new height and strength.

They came to a large glade of elm and Yavannamire trees and decided to explore it. Frodo was reminded of the woods back home in the Shire when he gazed upon the trees here. This was not a true wood in the Gardens of Lorien, because this wood was small, and much light shone through the well-spaced trees, but it gave off the same aura of protective comfort that the Shire had possessed. As they made their way among the trees, Frodo thought he saw a shadowy, wraith-like figure glide past them, weaving its way through the trees parallel to them. A little shiver of apprehension ran down his spine.

"Did you see that?" he asked Lindaril. He was somewhat alarmed. This shrouded being reminded him of the Ringwraiths that had pursued him during the dark days before the war.

"See what, Frodo?" she asked. She had been looking elsewhere and did not notice the apparition.

"I thought I saw - or sensed, more like - someone pass, but the figure was shadowy and in a shroud – sort of translucent."

"Oh, what you saw may have been one of the Elves in the process of fading," replied Lindaril.

"Really?" asked Frodo. "How sad."

Yes. It may have been an old Elf recently come from Middle-earth, whom Estë has just begun to heal," Lindaril replied. "It could be one of the rare Elves who waited almost too long to make the trip here, and who almost faded away entirely while still on Middle-earth. If so, then Estë will have much work ahead of her to restore that Elf to his or her former self. Its spirit, or fëa, may need to be taken to the Halls of Mandos, to await its possible resurrection at the hands of Manwë."

Frodo shuddered at the thought of that possibility. "I was beginning to see something like that happening to Lady Galadriel when we first arrived here," he said.

"Then perhaps it was she whom you sensed," said Lindaril.

"Galadriel? Oh, I hope not," said Frodo. "I cannot believe that someone as grand and strong as Lady Galadriel could simply fade away."

"Well," said Lindaril, "it has happened before, to another strong female of ages ago, none other than Melian the Maia, the mother of Lúthien Tinúviel. She came here long ago, and they say that she wanders here still, in her grief that never ends."

Frodo's thoughts traveled back to the past, when he was a Ring-bearer on Middle-earth, and he and his companions had taken refuge in Lothlorien after being pursued by the Ring-wraiths and other evil creatures. The time spent there had been very special. Frodo had offered the One Ring to Galadriel, but she had refused it, although she had been tempted to take it. After that she decided that she wished, finally, to leave Middle-earth, although she waited to see Sauron defeated first, and then, many years later, she left Middle-earth along with Frodo and Gandalf.

Galadriel had then been over ten thousand years old. She had started to fade, as many of the oldest of the Eldar did. While aboard the Grey Ship, Frodo had noticed how translucent she appeared. He wondered if the vision in the glade was indeed, Galadriel, despite Lindaril's words, and if she had come there to see him. He suddenly stopped walking. "Lindaril, wait!" he called out. She had walked on ahead, and was bending down to examine a bed of unusually fragrant flowering plants.

"I have just had an idea!" he cried.

She turned to look at him curiously. Even though she had been told to keep it a secret, she had told Frodo about the dream Irmo had induced in her, in which she related to him the formula for making the Silmarils. She told Frodo that to make these jewels involved the gathering together of many precious gems, and also that it needed the addition of the nectar from the two ancient trees of the Valar; Laurelin, the golden tree, and Telperion, the tree of silver light. However, she said that these trees had been destroyed long ago, and therefore, no new nectar was available. She had said that Irmo refused to be daunted, and he thought that there was still a way that new jewels could be made. Irmo had gone to seek the audience of Manwë and Varda, and ask them for advice, but Lindaril herself did not have much hope that it was possible to make any new Silmarils. She said as much to Frodo.

"Lindaril," Frodo repeated. "Did you not tell me that Morgoth demanded seventy thousand of these Silmarils?"

She nodded. She was very much interested in what he had to say, and walked toward him, dropping the flowers she had been collecting. They fell to the ground, scattering like petals.

"Would they need to be new jewels?" he asked.

Lindaril stared at Frodo. "What do you mean by 'new jewels'?"

He looked back at her. "New. Freshly made. Would they have to be freshly made?"

"I do not know if Morgoth said so, one way or the other," she replied. "But of course that was what he meant. He knows that there were only three of the originals. Why? What is your idea?"

Frodo gripped Lindaril by the arms. There was excitement in his eyes.

"Why could the remaining Silmaril not be broken into seventy thousand pieces?" he asked. "Is it not a large stone? Each of the pieces could then be given to Morgoth!"

"Morgoth would never accept them!" Lindaril cried. "He has had the Silmarils in his possession before this. He knows what they look like, and that they are huge stones, not tiny little fragments!"

Frodo persisted. "It would be in keeping with the bargain," he said, "as long as Morgoth had not stated that the Silmarils should be new!"

"I do not know what the agreement was," admitted Lindaril. "I suppose your idea is worth a try. Come, then, we should go and speak to Estë and Irmo about it."

"I thought that it was a good idea," Frodo said, rather crestfallen. "I thought of it just now when we were speaking of Galadriel. I remembered the lembas bread that she had given to our Fellowship when we set out from Lothlorien. One of the Elves, either Legolas or another, had told us that the lembas could be broken into tiny pieces, and that just one of these tiny pieces was enough to feed us for an entire day. That gave me the idea for breaking up the Silmaril."

When Frodo spoke the name, "Legolas," Lindaril gave a violent start.

"Legolas?" she asked abruptly. "Did you just say that you have an Elvish friend named Legolas?"

"Why, yes." He was surprised by her reaction. "Why do you ask?"

"I used to know an Elf named Legolas," she replied. "What did your friend look like?"

"Oh, you would remember him," said Frodo. He then described Legolas to Lindaril. "No female that I have known could forget his beauty," he said.

Lindaril looked quite serious. "I do not think that your friend was the same that I knew," she lied. "The one I knew was quite horrible, and not at all fair." She shook her head abruptly, as if to banish the memory of the flaxen-haired Elf from her mind. "Come, Frodo, let us go and find Estë, and tell her of your idea. It could be of great interest to her."

They quickly made their way back to Estë's house. Frodo was quite excited by his idea, although he did not know whether it would prove to be useful or not.

During this time, in the Halls of Mandos, Fëanor's spirit had been banished once again to wait in the depths of the Halls for another interminable length of time. Despite seeming to soften at their earlier meeting, he had not wholly repented, and Mandos felt that he was not ready to be resurrected because he had not reflected enough upon his past, and it did not seem as if he really wanted to change his ways. Mandos was aware of restlessness from Fëanor's spirit. There was a sense of seething anger about it, as if it were about to swell into a maelstrom of bitterness and protest. He decided to speak to Fëanor once more to determine if he could stem the tide of malevolence issuing from the fëa.

"What is troubling you, Fëanor?" he enquired. "I sense your restless spirit, and it is disturbing to me."

The spirit oozed a dark energy, which swept over Mandos in its intensity. "Ever since you spoke to me of Morgoth, I have felt a disquiet that I cannot bear," it seethed.

"Why are you still troubled?" asked Mandos. "You declared that you were not interested in helping us, and I am not convinced that you will ever do so."

"I have said that I would. It disturbs me that the Evil One continues to exist, and that he pursues my Silmarils with never-ending relentlessness! Will his malice never be gone from the world?"

Mandos responded with anger. "He does not merely pursue your Silmarils," he thundered. "He wishes to destroy our world and all who dwell here. Any possibility that he could obtain more Silmarils will perish with the destruction of Valinor. Do you not see that our only hope to continue lies in finding a way to vanquish Morgoth forever? We must work together to do this, Fëanor."

"How is it possible that he could now destroy the world when he could not do so in the past, while his power was much stronger?" Fëanor asked with the sound of scorn in his voice.

Mandos replied: "The Lord Manwë has let Morgoth enter his thoughts. He is not sure of the extent of the Dark One's power. He understands the workings of evil better than he did in ages past, and still grapples with the agony of knowing that Morgoth is his twin brother. He still cannot fathom that his brother is capable of terrible misdeeds, and the enormity of those evil deeds." Mandos appealed to him again. "I do hope that you will see your way to helping us, Fëanor. It would go far to improve your standing here."

Fëanor was silent for a while. Then he spoke.

"How do I know that you speak the truth to me?" he asked.

"You should know that we Valar do not lie," replied Mandos, his voice a mere whisper.

"Then, I will tell you this. If you can find a way to bring him here, I will see it done," said Fëanor. "I will make the Silmarils, but I have one demand. That I should be the one to give them to Morgoth face to face."

Mandos was pleased that Fëanor had asked for this task. It would not be as difficult as the outright betrayal of this Elf, which Manwë had reluctantly agreed to do when he struck his distasteful bargain with Morgoth. Manwë had been very loath to sacrifice Fëanor to Morgoth, even though the Noldorin prince had turned to evil ways himself in the long ago past. It was not known whether or not his time spent in the Halls had cured Fëanor of his pride, his dark lust for riches and for power.

"You said previously that you did not remember the formula for making the Silmarils. How is it that you now believe you can make the jewels?" Mandos enquired of him.

"Do the Valar not have the ability to retrieve that information from my memory?" asked Fëanor.

"Yes, but only from one who is willing," stated Mandos.

"I have said now that I will help you," replied Fëanor. "I am willing."

"I appreciate what you are saying," said Mandos, "but we have already received the formula from your great-granddaughter who had learned it long ago from her ancestors, your descendants, one to another. She had forgotten it also, but Irmo retrieved it from her memory when you said that you would not help us."

Fëanor ruminated over Mandos' words in silence before he spoke. When he did he was no longer angry. "I would like to meet my great-granddaughter," he said.

Mandos was pleased. He now felt sure of Fëanor's cooperation. Mandos could not get a sense that the Elf would soften enough to feel a kinship with Lindaril or with anyone, but he was willing to accept the promise of cooperation from him and to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Frodo and Lindaril had returned to Estë's house, and after searching about for awhile, found her in the library. Bilbo was with her, and they had been discussing the efficacy of using his maps as helpful devices for newcomers to the Undying Lands, to show them where the various places of interest were. When Frodo and Lindaril entered the room they were greeted warmly by both Bilbo and Estë, whom they joined, eagerly waiting for a chance to tell Estë their news.

"Let me ask you something, Frodo," Bilbo said, before Frodo had a chance to speak. "If we had been given a map when we first arrived, do you think it would have made it easier for us to decide where to live?"

"Well, I don't know, Bilbo," said Frodo. "I would have had to stay here anyway, since Estë was curing me with her powers of healing, and that process took us quite a long time. Then I met Lindaril, and she, too, needed to stay here for a while in order to become fully healed. Then we both liked it here so much that we stayed. I really do not think that maps would have made a difference to us."

Bilbo was fidgeting impatiently during Frodo's explanation.

Frodo saw this, and felt that he had hurt Bilbo's feelings. "Not that the maps you have made aren't wonderful," he said. "I am sure that they would be very helpful to new, healthy arrivals in this land."

"But there aren't any HEALTHY arrivals in this isle of Estë's!" he complained.

Everyone laughed at this, and Bilbo became thoughtful for a moment.

"You know," he said finally. "I do believe you have hit on something, Frodo. I should not be living here. It is not a useful place in which to give away my maps. I should be on Tol Eressëa, where the new arrivals disembark from the ships. Perhaps it is time I moved on. Tol Eressëa would perhaps suit me better. I have always enjoyed the cooler climates."

Frodo began to protest. "The climate on Valinor is the same everywhere!" he said.

"What I meant was that the air seems cooler on the island, because of the proximity of the sea," said Bilbo. "In any case, I think that I will move there. I shall go now to pack up and get ready. You must not in any way feel sorry that I have gone, Frodo. We shall visit each other often. I think, also, that you and Lindaril need to be left alone to get to know each other better. You do not need an old man to get in your way."

"Old man!" exclaimed Frodo. "You look as young as I do!"

Bilbo chuckled. "Estë and Irmo have been wonderful to me, but there is no need for me to remain here forever. I shall give up my room to someone new who shall arrive and perhaps need it more than I do. Thank you all for helping me to see that this is something that I really want. I will come and say goodbye to every one of you before I leave."

He turned and hurried out of the room.

Estë smiled at Frodo, who looked stricken. "Do not be sad. I do believe this is the best choice for Bilbo," she said.

"I shall miss him terribly," said Frodo.

Lindaril, who was impatient for their conversation to finish so that she could tell Estë of their idea, then spoke. "Frodo and I have come to tell you something of great importance. He has had an idea. He asks if it would be possible to take the existing Silmaril and break it, or cut it into much smaller fragments, seventy thousand in fact, to give to Morgoth." She stopped to take a breath.

Estë began to admonish Lindaril for telling the secret, but she was very interested in Frodo's idea. However, she doubted that it would be possible to make such a large number of new gems from the old one.

"They would be of such small size that I am not even sure that it would be physically possible to cut the Silmaril into that many pieces. Then there is the question of whether or not Morgoth would accept them as new jewels, or simply see them as a reworking of the old one and then refuse our offer."

"We wondered if Morgoth had asked for actual new jewels. If he did not specify that they should be new, then breaking the existing one may yet be in keeping with the bargain that he struck with Manwë."

Estë sighed. "I do not know the answer to this. Let us wait until Irmo returns from his visit on Taniquetil. He may be able to give us more information that would clarify things for us. I am rather impatiently awaiting his return in any case. I have been talking with someone else who has promised to help us speak with Fëanor. We were planning to go to the Halls of Mandos tomorrow, and she is to accompany us. You know of whom I speak, Frodo."

"I do?" Frodo was startled.

Estë then crossed the hall and went into an adjoining room. When Frodo turned his head to look, he saw a tall, slender woman, clothed in a white cloak with a voluminous hood. He saw another figure with her. It was someone cloaked in pale gray, who disappeared when the tall woman began to walk toward him. The tall woman reached up and lowered her hood, exposing a wealth of gold and silver hair. Frodo had recognized her by her gait, even before she showed her face.

"Lady Galadriel!" he exclaimed.

Galadriel looked like herself again; rather, she looked as she did when Frodo had first met her in Lothlorien, rather than she did when he had last seen her on Tol Eressëa. The faded look was gone. She appeared robust and well, and the light of the Elves shone in her face.

Lindaril stared at Galadriel, her eyes wide with wonder.

"It is wonderful to see you again, too, Frodo," smiled Galadriel. She turned and looked at Lindaril with much interest.

"Allow me to introduce Lindaril, who has recently arrived from Middle-earth," said Estë. "Lindaril is the great-granddaughter of Fëanor, whom we have been discussing these last few days. "Lindaril," and she turned to the younger Elf, "please welcome Galadriel, a cousin of your great-grandfather."

The two female Elves of the Noldor nodded to each other, and if she had looked closely, Lindaril would have seen tears in Galadriel's eyes.

"It is an honor to meet you," said Lindaril, bowing her head.

"Please, everyone, make yourselves comfortable," said Estë, and invited them all to sit down. "Galadriel knew Fëanor long ago when they were young. Fëanor is her half-uncle. She is going to come with us to the Halls to speak with him, and perhaps help to convince him of our need for his help."

"What can she do?" Lindaril blurted out. "If anyone should be going to the Halls of Mandos to speak with Fëanor, it should be me!"

"Do not upset yourself, Lindaril. The matter is a complicated one," said Estë. "Mandos has said that Fëanor has been uncooperative and unpredictable. Galadriel thinks that if she can talk to Fëanor, she can convince him to help us."

Galadriel added, "I knew Fëanor well, a very long time ago. At that time, he was eager to please me and he sought my friendship. However, I refused it to him, and our relationship grew bitter. Now I am willing to make amends with him, if it would be of help in our mission to save Valinor. Fëanor always possessed an intensely fierce spirit, but he ever sought my approval, and was upset when I spurned him. My feeling is that if his spirit were softened by my friendship that I would now willingly give to him, then he may, perhaps, relent, and join us in fighting Morgoth."

"What you are saying makes sense," said Lindaril, "but I wish to go with you. I mean no disrespect to you, My Lady, but I think that two of us, together, would perhaps achieve what one could not achieve alone."

"Then let us agree to wait until Irmo returns. We shall tell him of the ideas that we have come up with before we leave for the Halls," said Estë. "For now, let us make ourselves ready. I think I will go to find Bilbo before he departs for the Lonely Isle, in order that I can give him my farewell in case we must leave soon."

Frodo accompanied Estë to Bilbo's room. There they found him packing his belongings and his maps.

"Well, my dears, I am almost ready! I have summoned a wagon and I am just waiting for the Elves to come and load it up with my things. Do not despair, Frodo," he said, noticing his nephew's sad face. "You and I will not be parted for ever!" He jumped up and hugged Frodo.

A few tears were shed. Frodo then released Bilbo from his grasp and wiped his face. "Could I ask you for one thing, Bilbo?" he asked.

"Anything, my boy," Bilbo replied.

"Would you mind giving me one of your maps? I should like to have it as a keepsake," said the younger hobbit.

"By all means, my dear. You may have the one that shows all of the lands," said Bilbo, "It is a fine map, except that we did not do a particularly good job depicting the area around the Halls of Mandos."

"Thank you," said Frodo, "but that will be fine. I may be able to finish it properly, myself. I shall miss you, you old rascal."

"Until our next meeting," said Bilbo, hugging Frodo tightly.

Later, Frodo and Lindaril went to his room to pack some of his belongings to take to the Halls. While they were packing he regaled her with some stories from his past in the Shire, about Bilbo and their friends. She was much amused at hearing some of their exploits.

"Your life was so much different from my own," she said. She opened all of his dresser drawers to see if he had left behind anything that he might need, and pulled out a cloak made of an unusual grey cloth.

"What is this?" she asked.

"My goodness!" exclaimed Frodo. "That looks like my old cloak from Lothlorien! It was a gift from the Lady Galadriel, and it possesses some magical qualities that helped protect my friends and I from being detected by the Orcs."

Lindaril examined it thoroughly. "Does it?" she asked. "Let us take it with us. You never know! It may be needed again." She tucked it into Frodo's carryall bag.

15


	23. Chapter 23

23

The Rescue

Unfinished Tales: P. 395: Cirion and Eorl: "Vanda sina termaruva Elenna-norco alcar enyalien ar Elendil vorondo voronwe. Nai tiruvantes; harar mahalmassen mi Numen ar i Eru or ilye mahalmar ea tennoio."

"This oath shall stand in memory of the glory of the Land of the Star, and of the faith of Elendil the Faithful, in the keeping of those who sit upon the thrones of the West and of the One who is above all thrones for ever."

Gimli comforted the distraught Legolas as best he could. He was shocked by the Elf's appearance. He had never before seen Legolas in such a state; wounded so badly, both physically and emotionally, that he had collapsed. When the Elf had become calm, Gimli led him to the stream that ran through the woods. He helped Legolas remove some of his outer clothing in order to wash, and as he did so, Gimli noticed that the Elf had sustained many wounds. There were deep gashes in his neck and shoulders and teeth marks on his forearms where he had tried to fend off the wolves' attack. There were also bite marks on his thighs and knees that were in the process of healing. Gimli winced at the sight of these hideous wounds that covered his friend's body.

"Great stone quarries, lad!" he exclaimed. "I have never seen wounds such as these on you. It must have been a terrible battle that you fought. You were lucky not to have been killed!"

Legolas spoke for the first time in months. "I have not much memory of what occurred here. Of one thing I am certain, and that is that the spirits in the wood have helped me. They heal. They do not harm. I was forced into a peculiar sleep, and while I slept I walked about, half asleep and half awake."

Legolas looked at Gimli with the shadow of deep melancholy darkening his eyes. He gingerly let himself down into the clear water. He bathed for awhile in the stream, examining the marks that remained on his body. Gimli wrapped the Silmaril securely in Galadriel's cloak and placed it in his own backpack. Afterward, when Legolas was ready to leave, Gimli helped him through the wood, and out into the daylight where they stood upon the road. The water from the stream had renewed the Elf's strength, and helped his wounds to heal swiftly.

"Whither shall you go, Legolas?" asked Gimli, his heart beating hard with anticipation.

Legolas stood still and silent. "I do not know, Gimli," he replied after a few minutes had passed.

"What happened before you entered the wood, Legolas? I have many questions. Let me ask them. Why did you stay in these woods for so long? Why have you not come to Moria?"

Legolas stared at Gimli for many minutes without speaking. He pulled off one of his sleeves, exposing a large bite in his forearm, with several gashes and scrapes around it, still red but in the process of healing. "Fingalas is dead, Gimli," he said finally. "She was killed at my home by thieves - Dunlendings - who set fire to my stables. Six horses were lost as well. But the worst wound I have suffered is the knowledge that I let her down. I did not protect her well enough to keep her from harm. In my failure to protect her, I allowed her to be killed. When I left for the Grey Havens with the Silmaril, Gimli, I knew it had brought the ill luck that I was not strong enough to withstand. I could not let it cause another tragedy, yet one more has occurred despite my effort."

"What has happened to Arod?" asked the Dwarf, already knowing the heart-breaking answer, but wishing to help his friend to come to terms with the events that had occurred, however difficult that would be for him.

"He is dead," Legolas cried, and his voice broke. "Arod and I were beset by wolves. They killed him and injured me. Because of my negligence, two loyal friends, Arod and Fingalas, both have died." Legolas buried his face in his hands in anguish.

Gimli let out his breath in a deep sigh at these bitter words. He foundered for the adequate words to say to soothe him. "Legolas, you tried your best to help them. I am sure of that because I know you, and I have never seen you do less than your best. However, there is always a reason, a fate, if you will, for these things to happen. Sometimes it is not in your control to make it otherwise."

"My mind went blank and I was drawn, I think, into the wood by the spirits of the Amon Anwar. They were benevolent, for they saved me and they healed me," Legolas replied. "I know now my fate is to be an Elf, not a mortal, and thus an Elf I shall be. The best one that you have ever known."

Gimli put an affectionate arm around Legolas' waist, and the two walked slowly down the road toward Gondor. "Of course you are an Elf, Legolas," Gimli responded. "A great Elf-warrior, I might add. One of the best I've known, to be sure. Why do you talk nonsense about being a mortal?"

"Because of Fingalas, Gimli," Legolas replied. "I had considered asking permission of the Valar to marry her, and she was a mortal. Therefore, I would have relinquished my Elvish immortality, and I would have had to remain on Middle-earth. I was torn between doing so, and taking the Silmaril to Valinor, and thus remaining an Elf. Fate has decided the answer for me."

They had been walking for a few hours when riders approached them on horseback, coming from the north. The horsemen bore the insignia of the royal house of King Elessar of Gondor. They were Aragorn's men returning from the Grey Havens, where they had been searching unsuccessfully for Legolas. They stopped when they saw the Elf and the Dwarf.

"Are your names Legolas and Gimli?" the lead horseman asked. "The king has sent us to find you."

"Well, bless my axe! Yes, we are. You are a sight for sore eyes!" exclaimed Gimli. "Look at that, Legolas! Aragorn has sent his men to find us. We are most happy to see you!"

The men helped Gimli and Legolas up onto a spare horse, and they made straight for Minas Tirith. When they arrived, a messenger was sent into the palace to tell Aragorn that Legolas had been found, and that he and Gimli had gone to the Houses of Healing. It took the king but a few minutes to dash to Legolas's bedside. He dropped onto his knees beside his friend's bed, a look of anguish on his kind face, and took the Elf's hand in his.

"I should never have let you leave here with that accursed jewel, Legolas. I blame myself for what has happened to you, and I was grieved to hear of what befell Fingalas. I have never seen you hurt in this way before. You look terrible, my friend." He raised Legolas' wounded body and folded him into his strong arms.

Legolas gazed at Aragorn with a look of great pain in his eyes. "Aragorn, what happened was my fault alone," he said. "I believe that it was my destiny to bear the Silmaril and to suffer the consequences of that fate."

Aragorn turned to Gimli. "Where is that accursed thing now?" he asked.

"It is here," said Gimli. "I have it with me." He dropped his backpack onto the floor. It opened, and the Silmaril rolled out, still wrapped in Galadriel's cape.

"By all that is good," exclaimed Aragorn, jumping out of his seat, "we need to get that thing out of here right away. Guards!" he called out. "Gimli, please go with the guards and tell them to take it to the deepest vault beneath the city. Then go to the throne room to meet me where we will decide what is to be done with it."

"I will, Aragorn," said Gimli, "but there is one thing I believe to be of importance. I believe that Lady Galadriel's cloak may be protecting us from further harm from the curse. Nothing ill has befallen us since I used it to wrap around the jewel."

"That may be so, but it does not make me feel any better," said Aragorn. "To make sure that we are safe, I want it to be put away in the deepest vaults."

The guards arrived, and Gimli went with them to transport the Silmaril down to the lowest depths below the city.

Arwen, too, went to visit Legolas in the Houses of Healing. "Dear friend," she whispered to him, sitting at his bedside, stroking his brow. "How sad I am for your loss. I wish I had known of your plans."

"I should have paid more attention to your warning," he replied, "when you feared for Fingalas. I did not heed your words, and now she is gone. I feel that the agony of my responsibilities has come upon me, Arwen." He began to cry tears of anguish.

She did her best to soothe him, although it was in vain. She could not staunch his tears. When Elspeth, his nurse, came to his bedside to look after him, Arwen returned to her husband in the palace.

"What shall we do with the Silmaril?" she asked Aragorn. She was worried. "Should we take it to Imladris?"

"Let me think on this matter for awhile," Aragorn replied. "I have to be sure that I make the right decision, for the outcome may affect us all."

Eventually, Legolas returned to his former strength under the auspices of his friends Aragorn, Arwen, and Gimli, and the capable nursing of Elspeth in the Houses of Healing. In some way he had changed; aged, perhaps, because of the new grief that never left him, but also more determined and more fit, with keener Elvish senses than he had previously possessed. As he said to Aragorn, "I have lost something that was dear to me, although I did not have it for very long, and that was the unconditional love of two devoted friends."

Aragorn had replied, "At least you will always have the memory of that love, which will become even more special to you as you approach the end of your days."

Legolas nodded gravely at Aragorn's sage words.

Ioreth had been upset when she heard of the loss of Fingalas, who had worked with her for a number of years in the Houses of Healing. Legolas comforted her by saying, "The loss of Fingalas will be felt by all who were her friends. She will not soon be forgotten." They talked at length about the memories they both had of their friend. After awhile, Ioreth asked Legolas what had happened to the poison she had given him for the ant lions of Moria.

"I do not know. It must have been consumed by the wolves during the attack," said Legolas.

Ioreth looked grim. "That poison is very dangerous stuff, indeed," she said. "I shall give you more to replace it, but I am sure that I do not need to tell you to be careful with it."

Elspeth was deeply concerned for him, too. "My Lord, Legolas," she said. "When I first saw you in my old hut in Rohan, I thought that you were surely an angel sent by the Gods to take me away to a better place. You proved that you were an angel of flesh and blood when you helped me and saved my little girl's life. I could never thank you enough or repay you for that. Now, I am a nurse, and I have helped to save an angel's life, and I feel privileged to have been a part of your recovery."

"Thank you for those beautiful words, Elspeth," he smiled at her, holding her hand tenderly in his. "You do not know how much better they have made me feel."

When he was well enough to leave the Houses, Legolas told Aragorn and Arwen that he wanted to return to Ithilorien to make his final farewells to his friends there. "I wish to leave Ithilorien to them," he said. "From there, I shall be going with Gimli to Moria, where I will live from now onward in the caves. I will never live in the forest again."

Aragorn gave them a horse from his own stables, and sent a guard of four men with his friends in order to protect them from any ills that may befall them on the ride back. However, they arrived in Ithilorien with no further incident. Gimli felt certain that the curse of the Silmaril was being held in abeyance by the protection of the cloak of Lady Galadriel.

"I believe she looks out for us still, Legolas," said Gimli. He sighed. "I do understand how it feels when one who is dear to you has gone, and you know you will never see her again."

Legolas gave the Dwarf a grim smile of agreement. At his home he found that the Elves had made sure everything ran smoothly, and had done much more building in his absence. Fingalas had been entombed in a special catacomb of the Elves' making, and Legolas went to visit her there. He tenderly placed some red and white roses on top of her sarcophagus.

"Go now to your place of rest, and find peace," he said. "Goodbye, Fingalas," and after a few minutes of silence he turned away.

He gave a deep sigh and put his hand on Gimli's shoulder.

"Come, Gimli, and let us go back to Moria," he said. "Ithilorien is in very good hands. I do not wish to delay any longer. I wish to see Mene-mil and the root-people again."

Gimli smiled up at him. "That's the spirit," he said. They went to the stables, where they found Cemera, who was overjoyed to see them. Legolas stroked and patted the pony's nose.

"I know that you miss Arod," he told Cemera, tears falling from his eyes. "I do as well. I shall make sure that nothing happens to you, my little friend."

He readied the pony for Gimli to ride, and they left Ithilorien, Legolas upon Aragorn's horse. They took the road to Pelargir, and rode along the banks of the Anduin to the Mouths of the Entwash, where they made their way gradually back to Moria. They had left the Silmaril behind in Minas Tirith. Legolas had no more plans to leave Middle-earth before his time was come, but when that time was nigh, he planned to take the Silmaril to Valinor with him.

7


	24. Chapter 24

24

The Reunion

The Silmarillion: P. 74: Of the Flight of the Noldor: " -- but Galadriel -- was eager to be gone. No oaths she swore, but the words of Fëanor concerning Middle-earth had kindled in her heart, for she yearned to see the wide unguarded lands and to rule there as a realm at her own will."

The carriage bearing Este, Irmo, Galadriel, Lindaril and Frodo arrived at the Halls of Mandos after traveling along the long, lonely road that wound along the southwestern part of the coast. Irmo had conveyed the time of their arrival to Mandos and he awaited them in his front garden at the main door to the Halls. As Frodo climbed out of the carriage, he remarked how dark and unnerving he found the Halls of Mandos. He was not looking forward to going inside the Halls, but the others had insisted that he accompany them because he was the one who had thought of breaking the Silmaril, and Lindaril desired that he accompany her.

Mandos' garden was mainly a grouping of obelisk-shaped rocks. Large rocks and dark stones of granite had been carefully placed in such a way as to suggest that imposing sentinels were guarding the doors of the mansion. They were very effective. Frodo could not imagine anyone wanting to walk past these rocks. Some of them were highly-polished obelisks, and some were carved into craggy, abstract shapes of eagles sitting alert, with wings folded at their sides and keen eyes ever watchful. They seemed to issue a warning:

"Do not enter here, unless you can go in without guilt and fear."

In between some of the rocks were flowering vines that wound up around them. These vines bore strange flowers of a deep purple, almost black color, and had eyes of bright white. The eyes followed you as you walked up the pathway to the front door. They possessed an unearthly aura that was unnerving.

Mandos welcomed them in his booming voice. "Please come in, my guests," he said, and led them inside. Frodo followed the others with some trepidation. He really wished not to be there, but to be back home on the Isle of Este, where he knew he would feel safe.

"You will be shown immediately to your rooms," said Mandos. "Some refreshment will be brought for those of you who need to eat, and pallets will be laid out for those who need to sleep." He then led them all down a long corridor to their separate rooms.

Lindaril put a sympathetic arm around Frodo. "Never mind, Frodo," she said. "I know that you are not comfortable here, but after you have had some food and rest, I am sure you will feel better. I will stay with you so that you do not feel quite so alone."

Frodo squeezed her hand with gratitude. He was feeling quite apprehensive as they walked through the Halls'majestic corridors. There was a forbidding atmosphere permeating the entire mansion. He would never feel comfortable here because it was a place not for the living.

Frodo's room was pleasant enough, however. Mandos had a tray of food brought for him, on which lay ale, bread, cheese, and even some pipe weed. Frodo knew that if he ate and drank everything on the tray, and then smoked some pipe weed, he should be able to sleep without too much effort. Lindaril stayed with him, as she had promised, and soon he felt the drowsiness of impending sleep overtake him.

The room was very simple, with white draperies on the windows. They softened the starkness of the grey stone walls. The floor was covered in a soft grey carpet, and the pallet on which Frodo was to sleep was very comfortable. There were chairs and lounging chairs all around the perimeter of the room, and it even had shelves stacked with books. A fireplace was opposite the pallet, which had been set upon a metal frame, and in it, a warm fire crackled in the grate. Many sconces adorned the walls, and a small table set with a white cloth held the tray with Frodo's food and drink. After consuming all he could, he slept well that night while Lindaril kept watch over him.

During the night, Galadriel, alone, sought out Mandos to talk to him about Fëanor. "I do believe," she told him, "that the welfare of Valinor should take precedence over the issue of whether or not Fëanor has changed his ways. Despite my past feelings I believe that if he is willing to help us, then he must be permitted to do so. A close watch can be set on him lest he be tempted to exact revenge upon you or me."

They talked at length, and Mandos told her that he had made the decision to resurrect Fëanor after the last time they had spoken. While he was reluctant and did not fully trust Fëanor, Mandos felt that Fëanor would now be on their side against Morgoth.

In the morning Frodo awoke and Lindaril sat with him while he tried to eat some breakfast. She was uncharacteristically quiet, but Frodo was showing more signs of nervousness than he had been the night before.

"I wonder where all of the spirits in this place actually abide?" he asked her even though he knew she would not have the answer. Lindaril was silent. He dropped his head and walked over to the window to look outside.

Before he could get a good look at anything, the door to Frodo's room opened. Mandos stood in the doorway. "If you are ready now, please join the rest of us," he announced. We will be going down to the Resurrection Chamber presently." Frodo and Lindaril joined them, and Mandos led the group through many dark corridors that wound downward until they arrived at a door which was marked with strange runes in a script that Frodo did not recognize. "We have arrived," he added, and from around his neck he took a very large key hanging on an iron chain. He opened the door quietly.

Inside, the room was as dark as a dungeon. Mandos touched the sconces on the wall with a stick of some kind, and the torches held there burst into flame. When the room was lit with an eerily glowing silver light, Frodo saw that the circular room was ringed with benches. In the middle of the chamber stood a structure that looked somewhat like a birdcage, except that this cage was open in the front and had no door or gate. It looked to be made of silver, but it also appeared to be quite sturdy.

"Please be seated," Mandos told the onlookers. "I will be calling the spirit of Fëanor into this room, where he will appear as he was in his old Elvish form. You will be able to converse with him later, but please give him a few moments of quiet to adjust once he appears. You will not be able to hear me say anything to him, but he and I will be communicating before his form takes shape, and then you will be able to see him." Mandos shut his eyes and bowed his head. "I will now remove my curse of old, in which I stated that the Noldor's inventions and all of their art and artifacts must be destroyed. We have new need for Fëanor's Silmarils, to be used as bait and trap for Morgoth, the enemy. Though it be a harsh thing for me to rescind the laws the Valar have set in place, that is what I must do."

Frodo gripped Lindaril's hand tightly. Without knowing it, his nails dug into her flesh, and caused her to flinch. He cast a frightened glance toward her; terror was in his eyes. He did not know what he was about to see, nor did he know what to expect from Fëanor, who was an Elf of legendary fierceness, and had, in the long ago past, committed terrible acts of sabotage and murder, though they were with cause. Frodo looked toward Galadriel for some sign of reassurance, but her face was inscrutable as she stared at the silver cage.

After several minutes had passed, the guests noticed that a fine, black, smoke-like substance had begun to rise from the floor of the birdcage. It slowly filled the cage before it took shape. Everyone sat in anticipation of what they were going to see next. Gradually, the form in the cage increased in clarity until there stood before them a tall, dark Elf.

Fëanor was taller than any of the Elves that were familiar to Frodo. He was slim but muscular, and looked to be very strong. His hair was dark and full, falling to his waist. His countenance was grim and unsmiling. His eyebrows were very dark and almost met in the middle. In his eyes shone the light of the stars although they were dark and piercing. He had no facial hair. His nose was aquiline, his lips thin and set in a firm, straight line. He wore clothing of the military style of long ago, in a red color. His tunic bore many straps and strange-looking buttons, and he wore knee-high brown boots of a suede material, laced and moulded to fit his feet and legs.

"Let me introduce to everyone, Fëanor, son of Finwe the first High King of the Noldor," said Mandos. He walked over to the cage, and supported Fëanor by the elbow as he stepped out into the room. Fëanor bowed low to everyone seated, and they nodded to him. Mandos led him to a seat so that he could rest and better adjust himself to his new surroundings. Fëanor sat and leaned his back against the wall, gave a deep sigh and closed his eyes. He did not speak.

Everyone stared at him. He had an ancient aura about him, an imposing, mesmerizing presence. Frodo looked anxiously at Lindaril for her reaction to seeing one of her own kin suddenly appearing and sitting before her. Her chest was heaving as if she could not catch her breath. Frodo took her hand and held it firmly. She was trembling, and she glanced at Frodo and breathed deeply. Then she jumped to her feet. "Fëanor!" she cried out. Fëanor's eyes opened wide and his dark gaze shot directly toward her. She took a few halting steps forward. "My name is Lindaril. I am your great-granddaughter."

Fëanor stood, and he and Lindaril stared at each other. Despite his imposing presence, Fëanor's aspect seemed to soften as Lindaril's gaze met his. She appeared compassionate and earnest. It looked as if it was a shock for him to see her finally, even though Mandos had made him aware of her existence.

Lindaril saw the softening in him and tentatively approached him. She was of very tiny size next to Fëanor. The top of her head reached only to the middle of his chest, but she embraced him and set her cheek against his bosom. Fëanor raised his arms and embraced her in return, wrapping his huge hands about her waist. Despite his size, she felt his touch was tender.

"You are my only kin," said Lindaril. "My parents and the others, of whom there were only a few, have all passed on. My parents' deaths are unknown but likely to have happened, or they have wandered into unknown regions of Middle-earth. I have no knowledge of their whereabouts. I have lost all track of them. If they lived they may have taken the ship to Valinor, but I have not met any relations here, except for you."

Fëanor said to her in return, "The only thing that was ever most important to me, in my heart, was my family. When my father was murdered by that black, evil devil Morgoth, revenge took over my sanity. Revenge for his death and for the theft of my jewels."

"I know that your son Celegorm was my grandfather," said Lindaril. "He lost his life in pursuit of the Silmarils, after taking the lives of innocents. Yet I doubt not that at one time he was a good person. I know not who my grandmother was."

Mandos stepped forward, cutting short their conversation. "Let us leave any more family history for another time. We of the Valar feel deep sorrow for the necessary evil that we wrought upon the lands. We had to do so in order to capture Morgoth and rid the world of him."

While Mandos was in the process of bringing Fëanor back to life, Manwë had flown to Tol Eressea, to retrieve the Palantir that rested in the Tower of Avallone. Four Palantirs still existed: two in Valinor, one of which was in Manwë's throne room, and one in Tol Eressea. The others, which still remained in Middle-earth, were hidden. The one that had belonged to Denethor, the Steward of Gondor at the end of the Third Age, still resided in the throne room of Minas Tirith and now belonged to Elessar. The other, the one that had belonged to Saruman, was in the keeping of Círdan of the Grey Havens. Although it was forbidden to make contact with Middle-earth since the fall of Morgoth, Manwë had at this time been instructed by Ilúvatar that he could do so. Contact would only be allowed among the four Palantirs, and if it were deemed necessary for someone to travel between the two worlds, then the matter of whom would be allowed to do so would be decided at that time.

Manwë removed the Palantir's cover and grasped the ball between his hands. He stared into its cloudy surface and watched it become clear. In Minas Tirith, Aragorn awoke suddenly, feeling a strange calling. He felt compelled to get up out of bed and go to the throne room, even though it was the middle of the night. He crept quietly out of his bedroom, not wishing to disturb Arwen. She was not sleeping, however, and after he left the room she got up to follow him. They entered the throne room and could see a light coming from the Palantir, pulsating through its covering. Aragorn picked it up and looked into its depths.

Manwë spoke to him, but not through speech. He communicated through the transfer of thought, and spoke to Aragorn of the ill that had befallen Valinor.

"I ask for your help, if you have an idea that would be useful to us."

Aragorn told Manwë of the finding of the Silmaril in Moria and the discovery of the root-people. They communicated at length, and Manwë flew to the Halls of Mandos.

In the Halls, everyone was gathered in the Resurrection Chamber when a gust of wind blew suddenly into the room. It startled everyone and they turned toward it to see that Manwë was standing opposite the door.

"I bring greetings to everyone," he said. "I am sorry to have arrived in such a sudden manner and I hope that I have not startled anyone. I apologize for intruding upon your meeting in this way, Mandos, but I have news which I must relay to you." Manwë swept his robes aside, and sat down. Lindaril, leading Fëanor by the hand, took a seat beside him. Frodo was left by himsElf on the other side of the room, a forlorn figure looking across at them.

Manwë continued speaking. "I bring news from Middle-earth. The Silmaril of Maedhros has been found in some mines there, by an Elf named Legolas, and a Dwarf known as Gimli. They discovered also a new race of people that we did not know previously existed. It was these people who had discovered the Silmaril and hoarded it for many years."

Every person in the room sat wide-eyed with interest. Fëanor jumped to his feet. Manwë continued, "The Silmaril was found by pure accident, and has sadly caused much trouble for Legolas, who transported it from Moria to the Grey Havens."

He looked at Lindaril. "He tried vainly to take it to you. He followed you all the way to Lindon, but you had left well before he arrived. Afterward, he carried it back to Minas Tirith, but found he could not leave it there. He was returning to the Havens in order to bring it to Valinor himself, but in the process a tragedy occurred. Two friends of his were killed, and he almost lost his own life."

Lindaril looked stricken. "I feel terrible for what it has cost him," she said.

"Fortunately, he has recovered and he is well. This is good news for us," Manwë continued. "It means that there are now two Silmarils that we can use in order to fashion more jewels. The people who live in Moria are metal-workers and jewel-smiths, and will begin work on the Silmaril of Middle-earth, while we begin on ours here, if Fëanor will cooperate with us, as he has said that he would."

"How will the Silmarils manufactured in Middle-earth be transported from there to Valinor?" asked Irmo.

"They will be brought here by an emissary who will travel from Valinor to Middle-earth aboard a White Ship, and will return with the new Silmarils by the same method," Manwë replied. "There is only one person who will be permitted to do this. She is the only one who has ever made the trip in both directions before, thus we will ask her to do this again." He turned and smiled at Galadriel.

"Yes, it will be you, Galadriel," pronounced Manwë. "You were granted full pardon long ago for your disobedience of the Valar, and you were permitted to leave Middle-earth to return to Valinor. Now, we shall give you permission once again to leave our shores for Middle-earth to carry out this task that has been appointed to you with your willingness. We know you shall not fail."

Fëanor glared at Galadriel, and all the old memories of his niece flooded back into his mind. He remembered that she had turned against him. He stared back and forth between her and Lindaril. Galadriel was pleased that she had been chosen to undertake the journey. She knew Middle-earth very well. She was a friend of Círdan, the ship-builder of the Grey Havens, and also of Legolas and Gimli. She was Arwen's grandmother. Galadriel was over 10,000 years old, and she had changed much over the long ages of her life. While she had once been as much of a power-seeker as any of the Noldor, she had mellowed over the years since the One Ring had been destroyed. Along with it her power had been diminished..

After being tested by the One Ring, which had been offered to Galadriel by Frodo in Lothlorien, she knew in her heart that she was happiest just to be herself, the 'earth mother' who was always watchful over her children, the people of her realm who trusted her. She was glad to be given this new task that Manwë offered her because she loved Middle-earth and its people, and was grateful to have a part in helping to deal with the new menace from the threat of Morgoth.

After the group had discussed the details of everything that was to be done, and the different roles that they were each to play, they retired to their rooms to rest before departing the Halls. Frodo was feeling drained from all that he had witnessed. He had explained his idea of breaking the Silmarils into smaller pieces. Manwë asked Fëanor if it would be possible to do this, and Fëanor had agreed, and he told them a theory he had about the Silmarils.

"I believe that once the existing Silmarils are melted down, and if more gemstones of different types are added to them to increase their size, that there may still be enough of the light of the trees to burn within the new jewels that will make the new undetectable from the old. The light of the trees was intense enough that the amount of dilution that would occur to form seventy thousand jewels should still not be enough to weaken this light. We shall have to make them first, to see if my idea will work. If it does, then we can make as many jewels as we wish, and we should not be able to tell that the light within them is in any way weaker than the original. If we cannot tell the difference, then Morgoth will not either."

The Valar seemed to be immensely pleased by Fëanor's information. After a few moments, when discussion had ended, the group began to disperse and each returned to his and her own quarters.

Irmo and Este had remained silent through all the proceedings in the Halls, but now approached Mandos, and spoke to him quietly, so that none of the others could hear.

"Brother," said Irmo, "I must make you aware that Este and I both feel that what you and Manwë have decided to do is very wrong. We believe that you go against the policies that we of the Valar had planned with Eru, far back in the history of Ea. We were to be the protectors of the Children of Iluvatar, and especially of the Firstborn. Este and I do not agree with the sacrifice of Fëanor that you have planned with Manwë. You cannot throw Fëanor to Morgoth as if he were distaff to be tossed away so lightly. It is a life I speak of, Mandos, yet he be dead and then resurrected. He once was the greatest of his kind. What you will do is very wrong."

Mandos replied, "Irmo, you must trust Manwë as I do. He is trying to deal with this in the best way possible. You know not what his final plan is to be. But think on this: if you had to make a choice between sacrifice of one, or to lose an entire world, what choice would you make? Do not answer me now, brother. Think upon it, and then give me no answer still, and do not speak to me again of this matter."

The two brothers stared each other in the eyes, and the first one to falter was Irmo, and then, taking Este's arm firmly in his own, Irmo turned away from Mandos, and with Este at his side, left the room.

"Will you be joining me tonight again, Lindaril?" asked Frodo, as he headed toward his room.

"No, Frodo, please go ahead without me. I do not need to sleep, and I shall come to see you later," she said.

Lindaril turned to Fëanor. "Great-grandfather, I do not wish to be parted from you now that I have found you," she said. "Will you be coming back with me to Lorien?"

"No, Lindaril," interrupted Mandos. "I am sorry, but Fëanor does not have a choice in where he is permitted to go. He must remain behind these walls until a contingent can be assembled to make the trip with him to Formenos. Then he must travel there in order to begin working on the Silmaril of Eärendil. He is not allowed to roam about freely in these lands until he is re-oriented in the current ways of Valinor. There have been great changes in the world since he passed away, and he must be given time to become accustomed to them."

Fëanor smoldered at these words. "You judge me, Mandos, yet you do not know my capabilities. Why do you not tell Lindaril the truth, and that is that you are afraid of me? You fear that I may seek revenge once again for the crimes that were committed against me. You punish me still for the oaths that I spoke against you, the Valar. You, who spoke against taking vengeance, seek revenge yoursElves!"

Manwë stepped forward. "We wish only peace for you, Fëanor. Of mind and body. The Valar do not seek revenge. Our wish is to preserve this world, and not allow it to be destroyed by evil. To that end, we ask you only to work with us, to help us in this common purpose."

Lindaril took Fëanor's hands in hers. "Great-grandfather, for my love, which is newly discovered, and which will be yours forever, please put aside any thought of revenge for yoursElf or against you, and help us as you have promised," she pleaded.

Fëanor's heart softened at her words and the look of love for him that glowed upon her face. He stared into her eyes, and he made up his mind.

"Yes, my little one," he said, "I will help."

"May I stay with Fëanor in his quarters tonight?" asked Lindaril, looking back and forth between Mandos and Manwë. "Please. We have only just been united with each other, and I must leave him all too soon tomorrow. Please let me stay with him this one night."

Manwë and Mandos consented, and a room was prepared for them. The two Valar then left them alone. Lindaril, who had been feeling terribly strained, collapsed into Fëanor's arms. "I wish that you could come back with me to Lorien," she cried. "I want us to be together always, from now on."

"Lindaril, please listen to me," said Fëanor. He grasped her by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes with his piercing stare. "Mandos will be taking me to my old fortress of Formenos, where we will make the Silmarils. Then the jewels will be given to Morgoth as a bargaining tool so that the Dark One will leave Valinor in peace. I have agreed to this plan because it is what the Valar wish of me, and because of that they have made me whole again. But, with the last will and strength that I possess, I will never let my precious Silmarils fall into anyone else's hands but my own. With my dying breath yet again I would fight to keep them out of Morgoth's grasp. You are my close kin. Do you understand what I tell you? I care not for the Valar, nor for anything for which they stand."

Lindaril stared back into Fëanor's eyes, in which shone his uncompromising ferocity. She paused. "We are kindred spirits, you and I," she replied at length. "I am of your blood. Are we also of the same mind?"

"What mind is that?" asked Fëanor. "I do not know where you stand. You came here with the others, and then seemed to have a change of heart upon meeting me. You separated yoursElf from them to stand with me. Do I believe that it is how it looks? Is blood then thicker than water? Do you stand with me or with them?"

Lindaril did not falter. She nodded. "I am of your blood," she said again, "and you are of mine."

"Then will you promise me something?" he asked.

"I would do anything that you wish of me," she said.

"Would you come with me to Formenos? Once the Silmarils have been made, I need to find a way to take them away from Valinor, even if it means stealing a ship and going far from this world. I would need you to help me do this."

Lindaril held her breath. "I promise to help you in any way that I can," she said at length. "But the Valar will never let me accompany you to Formenos. I shall have to find my way there by mysElf after you have gone."

Lindaril reflected then upon her gift of a magical singing voice that was able to change the mood of anyone who heard it. She could manipulate people simply by singing to them. She had done this to Legolas in Minas Tirith, by forcing him to act against his will. She knew that he was not attracted to her, but she had led him to her room, and then had made him fall in love with her by singing to him. Later, she had regretted doing what she did, because he had become angry with her upon recovering from the spell, and was wary of her afterwards, and even came to dislike her, which was not at all what she had intended.

Her singing ability also involved another special gift, which she did not, of necessity, usually make known to others. This gift was an ability to sing song-spells, which had only once before in history been a talent possessed by an Elf-maiden; Lúthien Tinúviel, who was part Maia, and who was able to sing songs of spells that, among other things, could put people and other beings to sleep.

Lindaril always kept her own gift a secret, so that, if it became necessary for her to use it, it would be better used as a surprise to the recipient of the spell. Lindaril was aware that she could use the gift to sing a song-spell right at that moment, and everyone in the Halls of Mandos would fall into a deep sleep, from which they would only awaken after several days had passed, unless she herself awoke them with a waking-song. She considered doing this, but knew that it would be possibly a great mistake to reveal her talent at this time. Mandos and Fëanor needed to get to Formenos. If she put them to sleep, she could not transport them to the fortress on her own.

She was troubled by another thought as well. Did the Valar know of her singing ability? She did not think so, because she had remained hidden for so long on Middle-earth that no one had previously been aware of her existence. Before now, she had led a very uneventful life, never using her powers in any overt way. She regarded Fëanor closely. Should she pretend to be without an idea and let him think of a way for her to go to Formenos unnoticed? Would he be suspicious of her if she seemed to be too clever? She sighed, and said nothing. Instinctively, she knew that her special gift should be kept secret for a while yet.

Fëanor appeared deep in thought.

"How far is Formenos from here?" she asked him.

"I do not know," he replied. "I have dwelt too long in these Halls, and I have been told that the geography of the world has changed much since I passed out of it."

Lindaril remembered that Frodo had brought with him one of Bilbo's maps of Valinor. She thought that she could look at it later in order to calculate the distance. "The only way I can think to help you would be for me to go back to Lorien with the others, and then leave from there for Formenos at the first opportunity. I think I would also need to bring Frodo to help me."

"Who is this Frodo?" asked Fëanor. "Is he the small Elf with the curly brown hair who was sitting beside you in the Chamber when Mandos brought me back to life?"

"Yes," Lindaril replied. "He is actually a great hero who comes from Middle-earth. He is not an Elf himself, but he is of a race of people who may be close relatives of Elves. We share the same ears, but his people are normally much shorter in stature than we are. I am an exception, and do not know why, as an Elf, I was born so small. This may interest you, Great-grandfather. Frodo was instrumental in defeating Sauron the Deceiver, the evil Maia who tried to conquer Middle-earth."

"Sauron! I have heard that this Sauron was a servant of Morgoth!" cried Fëanor, his eyes narrowing with hatred. "I hate Morgoth and all of his minions more than I do the Valar!"

"Do you really hate the Valar?" asked Lindaril.

"No, I should not have used that word. Hatred is not exactly what I feel. I have contempt for them, yes, especially for their reluctance to take action. In the past, I had been terribly wronged, and I felt much anger towards them because I had been corrupted by the lies that Morgoth had told me. After I found out the truth, that he had lied to me, I hated Morgoth foremost for the murder of my father, and also because he robbed me of my jewels, including the Silmarils, while I was away. The reason I was not there at the time my father was murdered was because Manwë had commanded me to attend a festival on Taniquetil. I have blamed him ever since for that. If I had been at home, I may have been able to prevent my father's death, and the theft of the Silmarils."

Lindaril looked at Fëanor more closely. In his handsome face, which was twisted by unfathomable emotions, she saw a complicated man of unique ability whom she felt had the power to redeem himself.

"Let me now return to Frodo," she said, rising to her feet. "You and I should not seem to be too close to each other, lest Mandos suspects that we have made a plan together. Look for me in Formenos in thirty days, if I can manage to get there by then. In any case, I will come, I promise you, in not much greater time than that."

Lindaril returned to Frodo's room and saw that he was sleeping. She then went through his belongings very quietly, so as not to disturb him, and found the map of Valinor. Assuming that Bilbo's calculations were accurate, the distance between the Halls of Mandos and Formenos was about five hundred and thirty miles. The distance from the Isle of Este to Formenos was about the same. It meant a walk of at least a fortnight, and that would mean pushing themselves very hard. Lindaril breathed a sigh of relief that she had given Fëanor a fairly reasonable estimate of the time it would take her to reach Formenos. She slipped quietly out of Frodo's room and tiptoed down the corridor. She opened a number of doors until she found Galadriel, sitting in her room, alone. Lindaril stepped through the door and silently glided toward her kinswoman. Galadriel, sensing Lindaril's presence, turned and saw that it was her.

"I have come because I need your help," Lindaril said without any preamble.

Galadriel gazed at her with an inscrutable expression. "I would be glad to help you," she said. "Come and sit with me. We have not had a proper opportunity to speak with each other before now, and I feel that it is important that we do so."

Lindaril joined Galadriel on her settee. "I do not know where to begin," she said. Then, feeling overwhelmed, she burst into tears. Galadriel put her arms around Lindaril's shoulders and held her closely.

"Let me tell you a story," said the older Elf. "Many, many years ago, a young Elf-maiden left her home where she was secure and much loved by her family, and placed her trust in others of her kin, and started on a perilous journey with them. Burning within her was a desire to travel afar and establish her own realm, and the desire was of such power that it enabled her to endure many hardships while on this journey. Some of the terrible things that she witnessed on the travels changed her forever, but she changed for the better. It gave her a clearer understanding of others, and of the meaning of the consequences of one's actions. She possessed the gift of foresight, which became stronger over time. More important than the foresight, however, was the knowledge of when to use it, and when to let it lie and allow others to fulfill their own destinies, and let events occur naturally. Do you understand what I am telling you, Lindaril?"

The younger Elf raised her head from Galadriel's shoulder. Her tear-stained face showed much weariness and confusion. "I do not understand you at all," she said. "Only that perhaps you were telling me your own story. But you and I come from different places. We are worlds apart. Your journey was made with others. Mine was made alone with only myself for company and protection."

"I did not have protection from the others," said Galadriel. "Some of what I witnessed was the slaying of my kin by my own kin. I did not wish to be a part of that betrayal which horrified me, and so I felt terribly alone whilst in the company of many. Together we crossed a treacherous terrain of ice that claimed the lives of scores of my people. Never had I felt so alone and in such danger. Yet I survived, as did many others, and lived a happy, fulfilling life afterward, despite my horrific memories."

"Still, it was not the aloneness of knowing that you are the only member of your species in a frightening place, where you are surrounded by creatures and evil people who are trying to kill you, while you try to remain unnoticed when things are crashing down all around you," Lindaril replied.

"We have each had our own terrible trials to endure while we were young," said Galadriel. "We do have that in common. Perhaps the manner in which we deal with the rest of our lives will also be a common thing between us, and yet, perhaps not."

"We are kin, are we not?" asked Lindaril.

"Yes, we are kin," replied Galadriel. "Fëanor and my father, Finarfin, were half-brothers. Fëanor and I grew up knowing each other, although we were never very close. We were of different spirits and we did not get along very well. He actually sought my friendship and I rejected him. If I had known then what I do now, I would not have done that. I would have tried to strengthen his ability to have insight into his actions, and I would have tried to show him that there are other things in life for which to strive rather than the possession of power and of objects. Things may have turned out differently for him." Galadriel sighed. "What did you wish me to help you with, Lindaril?"

Lindaril paused, her thoughts conflicted. Originally, she had come to ask for Galadriel's help in getting to Formenos, thinking that since Galadriel and Fëanor were kin, that the elder Elf would help them out of familial loyalty. However, now that Lindaril had heard the story of the history of the uncle and niece, she thought that Galadriel would never agree to help her. She quickly cast around in her mind for another plausible reason for enlisting Galadriel's help.

"When you arrive on Middle-earth," said Lindaril, "will you be going to see Legolas, who has the Silmaril in his possession?"

Galadriel was puzzled. "Yes, of course I will see him," she said.

"Would you give him a message from me?" asked Lindaril.

"Yes, certainly, although I did not know that you were close to him."

Lindaril hesitated. She did not know what to say. Galadriel waited, looking at Lindaril with much interest.

"Would you - would you - please tell him that I am thinking about him, and that I - I - am sorry for everything?"

"Lindaril," said Galadriel, "I will give Legolas your message, but I have some advice for you. If I were you, I would turn my full attention to Frodo and give him the care and friendship that he deserves. I think that you will be the happier for it."

Lindaril regarded Galadriel thoughtfully. "Thank you for your advice, my lady, and for the talk that we have had. You have given me much to think about," she said.

The next day the group left the Halls of Mandos, except for Fëanor, who stayed behind under the watch of Mandos and Manwë. The Valar did not yet fully trust him. No acts of revenge would ever again be permitted to take place on Valinor, and they thought that it was possible Fëanor might still be harboring feelings of vengeance below the surface of his awareness that even he may not have realized. Therefore he needed to be carefully watched.

Lindaril felt that the separation between herself and Fëanor was very hard, to come on the heels of their first meeting. Now that she had found her great-grandfather, she did not wish to be parted from him so soon. The memories of her profound loneliness flooded back to her. She had felt a strong familial bond between Fëanor and herself. Frodo tried to comfort her, but he could not console her. Ever so slightly, she was beginning to distance herself from him.

Galadriel returned to Este and Irmo's home with the others, and shortly afterward she departed from Lorien for the Isle of Tol Eressëa. From that outpost, she returned by White Ship to Middle-earth and the Grey Havens. From the Grey Havens, she planned to journey to Moria, where Legolas and Gimli continued with their restoration, completely unaware of her impending arrival.

19


	25. Chapter 25

25

Moria Revisited

The Silmarillion: P. 60: Of the Silmarils: "In those days, moreover, though the Valar knew indeed of the coming of Men that were to be, the Elves as yet knew naught of it; for Manwë had not revealed it to them."

P. 74: "But from Valmar no message came, and Manwë was silent."

When Galadriel arrived in the Grey Havens she was welcomed by Círdan, who presented her with his Palantir and Shadowfax, the swift Mearh of Rohan who had been Gandalf's steed and who lived with Círdan in the Havens. After a joyful but brief reunion with Círdan, she set off for Moria.

Legolas and Gimli had had an uneventful journey back to Moria. They arrived at the Gates at nightfall when the runes and drawings on their great doors shone with their Ithildin glow in the moonlight. They moved on into the great entrance hall which had been restored by the root-people in Gimli's absence, and reflected the glory of the elder days of Dwarrowdelf, the great ancient city of the Dwarves. Legolas marvelled at how much work had been done. Gimli beamed with pleasure at his compliments.

"Soon this city will be as magnificent as it ever was, and people from all over the world will want to visit us," he said with pride.

They moved along the vast corridors between the great open spaces. These passageways had been cleared of rubble and turned into great roads, wide enough to accommodate traffic coming and going in both directions. As they rode forward, they passed several groups of the root-people, who were busy dusting and sweeping, and generally keeping the corridors clear of debris. They gazed at the hallways built of many huge columns, now majestically restored to their original splendour.

They came upon Mene-mil who was returning from one of the underground mines on the eastern border where he had been overseeing production. He greeted them with excitement.

"Ah, it is good to see you!" he cried. "I have been awaiting your return with much impatience!"

"My dear Mene-mil," said Gimli. "I am delighted to see the progress that has been made in my absence! It is quite marvellous!"

"Hello, Mene-mil," said Legolas in a quiet voice.

"Oh, Master Legolas," Mene-mil said, and his eyes misted. "I have missed you. We have all been much worried about you, and are very pleased that Master Gimli found you and has brought you back to us. It is wonderful to see you looking as well as ever." Mene-mil's amber eyes blazed with excitement and he continued. "Come and see what we have found!"

The Dwarf and Elf dismounted in order to follow him. Some of the root-people came to take their horses away to the stables. The stables were something new in Moria. Horses had never been kept in the mines before.

Mene-mil led Gimli and Legolas down a corridor to a great storeroom, which looked like a huge vault with many iron bars on the doors. A swarm of root-people clambered onto them and got them open very quickly. They went inside, and the root-people lit torches all around the room. Legolas and Gimli could not help but gasp at what they saw there. Around the perimeter of the room were many large storage bins hewn out of stone. In them shone thousands of crystals of every kind of rough gemstone; from lapis lazuli and topaz to rubies, sapphires and diamonds of every shape and size.

"These are where the gems in their crystalline stage are kept," said Mene-mil. "We have found every kind of jewel in the mines beneath these mountains, not to mention every kind of metal. Moria is indeed rich with treasure. Let us go into the next chamber. That is where our jewel-smiths cut the gemstones once they are fired, and the next room after that is where the finished stones are stored. Nearby we have the smithy where the metals and some of the crystals are fired and shaped. We have built a very extensive operation here, with many forges enabling us to do swift work."

Legolas was amazed by the enormity of the production that he saw. Gimli beamed with pride and remarked, "I thought we Dwarves were great craftsmen of jewels, but it seems we cannot hold a candle to the root-people."

"Gimli, do you realize how much wealth is stored here?" asked Legolas. "My mind is racing right now, but I cannot help but think that these riches would benefit Rohan enormously!"

"Rohan!" exclaimed Gimli. "Rohan has no claim on these mines!"

Legolas looked surprised. "No, Gimli, it does not," he replied. "However, if these riches had been found in Ithilorien, I would have donated them to Rohan's aid. The Rohirrim are our friends, Gimli, and they are suffering."

"That may be," said Gimli, and do not assume that I have no feelings for Rohan! Remember that I used to live there. I love Eomer and Eowyn dearly, but one must not be hasty in throwing away one's wealth without a lot of thinking and having long discussions about it first with people who know about such things. Also, one must not be too hasty in making one's wealth known to others."

"You are right, Gimli," said Legolas. "This could turn out to be a matter of some complication, with different politics involved." He sighed. "I have not a very political mind. We should discuss this matter first with Aragorn. Gondor has a long diplomatic history, and Aragorn, being more learned than I about these things, should know what to do. The matter is yours to discuss with him, Gimli. I will not interfere again."

"Harrumph," Gimli grunted. He was somewhat surprised by Legolas' quick backing down. In the past, the Elf was always up for a good argument with him. He had noticed, though, that Legolas had changed much since he had recovered from his injuries. He seemed to have moved into a new level of maturity, and despite his denial of it, seemed to have very good diplomatic abilities.

After they had looked around Moria for a while Gimli told Legolas that he and Mene-mil were going to return to the West Door in order to check on a structural problem that Mene-mil wanted to show him. Legolas replied that he wished to stay and look around in the mines a bit longer and he would meet up with them later. Gimli and Mene-mil then made their way back to the west entrance of Moria. Mene-mil was explaining to Gimli about some of the new things that the root-people had devised.

"The ant lion problem seems to have been solved," said Mene-mil. "Since we boarded and paved over the floors the beasts have been trapped below. They have either smothered or perhaps died from lack of food. We have seen nary a one in a long time."

"Well, that is good news," said Gimli. "I think that—" he stopped abruptly. He became suddenly aware of a faint glow like starlight coming from the hallway ahead. The corridors were lit by well-spaced torches and they were not altogether dark, but were somewhat dim.

"Oh, blast!" thought Gimli. "I am not carrying my axe! Now what is the—" and his thoughts were cut off as a voice spoke to him.

"Hello, Gimli," it said, and its musical quality was like the sweetest song that he had ever heard, years ago when he was but young. Galadriel on Shadowfax appeared from behind a pillar.

As Gimli's gaze fell upon the Lady of Light, whom he loved with all his heart, and whom he thought he would never see again, he felt as if all of the blood had drained out of him. He fainted dead away and almost crushed poor Mene-mil who was standing right behind him when he fell.

Legolas at this moment was being shown by some of the root-people through a system of caves that lay near the East Gate. They reminded him of the Glittering Caves of Helm's Deep where Gimli had recently been living. He also remembered his grandfather's description of the caves of Menegroth in Beleriand, which were no more, and even of the castle caves of Mirkwood.

'My father would speak of Menegroth often, and of how his father had loved it there,' thought Legolas. 'They gave him the idea to build his own kingdom in Mirkwood Forest, near the caves of the Lonely Mountain. I grew up there, in both the caves and the forest, and I am used to living in both. I am tired now of the forest, and the caves seem to draw me to them. I believe with a little work I could make it quite habitable here.'

He was lost in reverie as he looked around, imagining living in Moria. He was brought out of his dreams by one of the root-people reminding him that he should go to meet Gimli as he had promised. The root-man brought him a horse, and Legolas mounted it and turned back in the direction of the west entrance. It was a distance of more than thirty miles, and it would take him over an hour to reach it on horseback.

When Gimli awoke, he opened his eyes and saw Mene-mil's face very close to his own. The root-man's huge amber eyes stared into his. Gimli's head was resting in Galadriel's lap. Her soft hands were stroking each side of his face. "Am I alive or dead?" he asked.

Galadriel laughed. "Why, do you not know that you are alive, silly Dwarf?" she asked. "Come now, and get up." She put her arms around his chest and lifted him easily to his feet. Gimli struggled to find his balance and coughed a little in embarrassment. Mene-mil handed him his belt, which they had removed so as not to constrict his breathing while he lay unconscious. He snatched it out of the root-man's hands with a disapproving look.

"Pardon me, my lady," he mumbled, his face red, as he turned his back to her in order to put his belt back on. Galadriel was laughing and to Gimli this sounded like the merriest brook cascading through the most beautiful rocks.

"Oh, dear Gimli!" she cried. "It does my heart good to see you again!"

"My Lady," said Gimli, when he had found his voice, "please forgive me, but may I ask what you are doing here? It is not that I am not joyful to see you, but—" he sputtered.

"I have been sent back on an errand," Galadriel replied. "Let us walk. Tell me, is Legolas with you? I must speak with both him and you concerning a very serious, grave matter. It is why I have returned to Middle-earth."

Gimli nodded. "He is here," he stammered. "But he was near the East Gate when we left him. He will be returning to meet us here. I think we should wait for him, My Lady, since he will be on a horse, and will make quick time. Would you like your horse to be taken to the stables, or would you like to ride out to meet Legolas?"

"No, let us wait, Gimli," she replied.

Gimli asked Mene-mil to take Galadriel's horse to the stables, taking a closer look at the spirited animal. "Bless my boots!" he cried. "Is that not Gandalf's steed, Shadowfax?"

"It is, indeed," Galadriel laughed. "He was waiting for me at the Grey Havens, and has brought me here more quickly than any other horse could have done."

Mene-mil took the reins, but Galadriel stopped him as he made to leave.

"Who are you?" she asked. "I am sorry that I was too distracted earlier to ask you your name."

"It is Mene-mil," he replied, "of the root-people," and he bowed deeply. He gazed in wonder upon the tall, elegant Elf-woman standing before him.

"You shall have to tell me about yourself after you have housed my horse," she said, and Mene-mil went away smiling.

Gimli and Galadriel walked along the corridor. He told her how he and Legolas had almost been trapped by an ant lion, and of their discovery of the root-people and the Silmaril. While he was telling her the story, they saw Legolas approach.

"Lady Galadriel!" the Elf exclaimed, hopping lightly off the horse. "Are my eyes deceiving me, or is it really you?"

"It is good to see you again, Legolas," she said. "Gimli has just been telling me the fascinating story of the root-people, and how they found the Silmaril. It is because of that, in a way, that I am here. It is strange that some form of the evil that Morgoth wrought should bring us all together again. Can you take me to a more appropriate place where we can have a long talk? I have much to tell you."

They came presently to a comfortable chamber that was used to store dried goods and linens, and which was furnished with some crates that the root-people used for seating. Galadriel began her story by giving Legolas the message from Lindaril.

"She asked me to give you her apologies," said the Lady. She gave Legolas a curious look. "For whatever she has done to you, she is sorry. What she told me seemed heartfelt and sincere. I believe her to be a worthy person, Legolas, although she is troubled."

"I know what she is," Legolas replied. "I thank you for bringing me her message, though. May I enquire in return about Lord Celeborn?"

"He is well, although he and I have parted ways," Galadriel replied.

"Oh, have you?" Gimli enquired, suddenly interested in the conversation. "I am sorry to hear that," he added as an afterthought.

"We prefer to be free spirits," she continued, "and wander where we will without encumbrances. There is no ill will between us. Now, let me show you why I have come." She produced the Palantir from beneath her robes, and set it upon a table.

Legolas and Gimli stared at it with surprise. "A seeing-stone!" cried Gimli. "Why have you brought this here, My Lady?"

"It is so that we may communicate with Lord Manwë in Aman," she said. "Please keep its whereabouts a secret, both of you," she entreated. "It is of the utmost importance that no one else knows that it is here. You both know that the incorrect use of the Palantir can bring great ill to the one who does not know how to use it properly."

Gimli and Legolas both promised that they would not reveal its whereabouts, and Galadriel began her story. She explained that Morgoth had returned to Valinor in the way of threatening thought rather than form, and how the black cloud of his making hung over Aman. She told them that Valinor might be destroyed if a way could not be found to prevent it. She told them of the resurrection of Fëanor and the plan to have him formulate new jewels as a peace offering to Morgoth.

When Galadriel had finished, Legolas asked her, "How will Morgoth be presented with the seventy thousand Silmarils?"

Galadriel shook her head. "This I do not know," she replied.

"It seems to me that one cannot simply go up into the sky and hand them over," he said. He frowned and looked at her with a keen glance.

"The Valar do have a plan, Legolas. They must believe that Morgoth will go away as he has said he would do once he has the Silmarils in his possession, but how he is to be given them, I do not know."

"It does not make sense to me," said Legolas. His frown deepened.

Gimli chortled at his words.

"This is not a matter for any amusement, Gimli," reprimanded Galadriel.

Gimli blushed. "I was not meaning any disrespect to you or anyone else," he said. "I was merely laughing because Legolas appears befuddled."

"Have the two of you not made peace with each other in all this time?" asked Galadriel, looking annoyed. "You seem to spend most of your time together. To anyone watching it would seem as if you are great friends."

The Elf and Dwarf exchanged surprised glances. "We are great friends," said Legolas. "When we insult each other it helps us to relieve anxiety so that we can better deal with problems." He patted Gimli on the shoulder. "I take no offence at what he says, and he accepts my insults in return. This manner of dealing with stress works well for us."

"Very well," said Galadriel, looking somewhat appeased. "I am glad to hear it. To continue, however, I do believe that the Valar may have a plan of which they have not yet revealed anything, to me or to anyone else. However, they sent me here to retrieve the Silmaril which you found in Moria, and that task I am bound to carry to completion."

"How did they know of the jewel?" asked Legolas. "There is no communication between our two worlds any longer. How could it be known to them that the Silmaril was found? Does it possess other powers of which we are unaware?"

"Manwë was told of it by Aragorn," said Galadriel, "who has in his keeping the Palantir of Minas Tirith. Have you the jewel in Moria?"

"No. It rests in the vaults of Minas Tirith," said Legolas. He was strangely reassured by the news that Valinor and Middle-earth could communicate by way of the Palantirs.

Galadriel sighed. "Then I will have to journey to Minas Tirith to retrieve it, and from there I will take it back to the Grey Havens, and thus on the returning ship to Valinor. It will be bittersweet for me to see Arwen and Aragorn again. Bitter because I will have to leave them very soon, but sweet to have another visit, however brief it may be."

Legolas had been thinking as she spoke. "It seems to me," he said, "that it is a tremendous waste of time for you to travel first from here to Minas Tirith, then all the way back to the Grey Havens, only to take the Silmaril to Valinor so that Fëanor can use it to make more jewels. By the time all of that is done, he will have already completed his work on the other Silmaril, and will be waiting too long a time before you can bring our Silmaril to him. What if Morgoth decides to attack during that time, because he is tired of waiting? I have another idea. We could make new jewels here. If I can go quickly to bring our Silmaril back to Moria, the root-people can cut it. They are very fast workers, and can have the job done in no time. Then you will be able to transport the newly-made, smaller jewels back to Valinor, and much time will be saved."

Galadriel considered Legolas' words and then she said, "Lord Manwë has thought of that already, but I would not let you carry the jewel again after what has happened to you It was brave of you to offer, but I will ride to Minas Tirith on Shadowfax, who brought me here from the Grey Havens."

"I will worry for your safety, while you carry that accursed Silmaril," said Legolas.

"The Silmaril cannot hurt me," said Galadriel. "I am reborn Eldar, and immune to its curse."

Gimli remembered that he had wrapped the Silmaril in her cloak from Lothlorien and told her about it. "I believe that the grey cloak protects anyone who handles the jewel," he told her.

"Precious Gimli," said Galadriel, stooping to touch his shoulder. "How delightful that you have kept my special cloak after all this time. I am most touched."

"I would never have parted with it except under extreme circumstances," he said, blushing.

Before Galadriel made ready to leave for Minas Tirith, she prepared herself for a conversation with Manwë through the Palantir. He had asked her to keep regular contact with him so that he could instruct her if necessary, and had told her not to make any changes in plans without making him aware of them first. She wished to let him know that she would be leaving Moria for Minas Tirith. She looked into the Palantir's smooth surface and gazed into its depths.

Manwë was not responsive at first try. He had received further communication from Morgoth, and the new revelations had upset him greatly. He could not turn his attention away from the new horror that had reached him in order to respond to the Palantir's call. He had opened his mind again to receive the thoughts of Morgoth, but something which was not intended for Manwë to see revealed itself to him inadvertently. Manwë was much shaken by the new discovery, and he knew that he must not reveal to Galadriel that of which he was now aware, because it could upset all of the plans that he had intended to put into place.

He saw, within Morgoth's mind, in a reading of his thought, an awareness of the black hole that remained behind the black cloud. He did not understand exactly what it was, but he determined that it had great power, greater than anything he could control. Morgoth's treachery had been revealed. Manwë quickly summoned Olórin to him.

"My old friend," he told him. "I am afraid it has come to this. Against my own advice and wishes, I must ask you to do that which you had long ago offered. Valinor's hour of need has arrived."

10


End file.
